


The Songbird

by curiouserncuriouser



Series: The Songbird [1]
Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Choices, Choose Your Own Adventure, Choose Your Own Ending, Chris Feels, Competition, Dating, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hotel Sex, Love Triangles, Multiple Endings, Oral Sex, Possessive Sebastian, Romance, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 55,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22905268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouserncuriouser/pseuds/curiouserncuriouser
Summary: She needed to start over. LA seemed like the right place to do it. But once her acting career took off, she found herself starting things she was not really prepared for.
Relationships: Chris Evans (Actor)/Original Female Character(s), Chris Evans (Actor)/Reader, Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan/Original Female Character(s), Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s), Sebastian Stan/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Songbird [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699837
Comments: 85
Kudos: 101





	1. Prologue, Part 1: Fresh Starts

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a long one, most of it is already written. If you're here for the smut, you'll have to be patient, but it'll get there! I'm doing a bit of stitching together of a few different stories, so if I made a mistake copying and pasting, or if a transition doesn't make sense, LMK!
> 
> Also: if you're just here for the smut, it's in chapter 6, and then 19 & beyond is when it gets progressively smuttier.

Starting over isn’t easy on anyone, but Shyla Riddle needed a reset badly. Her life had collapsed around her in an instant when her husband died, and when the dust started to settle on her grief, after the memorial service was over and the cards and flowers and casseroles stopped coming in, when her life was supposed to start moving forward again…it didn’t. She felt stuck. She couldn’t just live the same life anymore. Working the same job, coming home to the same empty house. So she gave it all up. She sold the house, and between that and the insurance payout, she had some flexibility. She loaded up a U-Haul and drove her remaining worldly possessions down to the city everyone moved to when they wanted to reinvent themselves: LA.

One of the first things she bought when she moved to LA was season tickets to the LA Galaxy. She agreed to it with a friend, Greg, and they decided to splurge on decent seats. Greg was a friend from high school who was helping her break into the voice over business, as he’d been in town doing that for years. Though it was early in the season, she’d already made a vague acquaintance with some of the people in their section, and was even friendly with her neighbors.

On a lovely March Saturday, she was expecting to see her soccer neighbor, Rahul, sitting in his usual seat, with his friend on the other side, but they weren’t there. Two different guys sat there. She was pretty sure it was Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan, but she didn’t want to make an ass of herself or embarrass them, so she just sat down and pretended not to notice. She did turn to Greg and whisper “Don’t look, but I think I’m sitting next to Captain America.”

“Well look at you, playing it cool! You’re already _so_ LA!” Greg teased.

She wanted to come back with a snappy retort, but the loudspeakers switched from generic music to the announcer’s voice, and the crowd around them surged to their feet. Except for the two new gentlemen to her left.

“On your feet! You’ve gotta stand!” She shouted over the crowd noise to the newbies.

“Yes ma’am!” Chris obeyed, hopping to his feet.

“So…do we have to stand the whole time?” Sebastian asked. The way he leaned back, he might have been checking out her ass, but as he was the only one seated, and he was wearing dark sunglasses, it was a little hard to be sure what he was looking at.

“Absolutely! Up!” she insisted.

“So…what else do we need to know?” Chris asked.

“Is this your first match?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been to other sports, but not soccer. I’m Chris, this is Sebastian, he’s more of a soccer fan.”

“Well, welcome! I’m Shyla!” They shook hands, she pretended like she either didn’t recognize them or at least like it was no big deal. “This is my friend Greg. We’ll take care of you, I promise.”

She explained the game and the chants, he bought hot dogs, she bought beer. Just before halftime, Greg checked his phone. “Oh shit, it’s Amy. She says she’s not feeling so well.”

“Go home,” Shyla assured him, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll get a Lyft or something. Text me how she’s doing.” She gave him a hug and he sprinted up the stairs.

“What was that about?” Chris asked after Greg had bolted.

“His wife is pregnant, and she’s getting close to her due date, so he’s pretty jumpy. It’s really sweet.”

“Aw, congrats to them!” She was struck at how genuine his smile seemed. He didn’t know these people, he was a big celebrity, but it seemed like he was actually happy for them.

“Yeah, I’m excited for them!” she beamed up at him.

The halftime buzzer sounded, and they sat down to finish their beers and chat. Sebastian had gone to get another beer, despite her warnings about lines, so that left Chris and Shyla. They were both leaning in, twisting to face each other as best as they could, to hear each other over the din of the crowd.

“So: perfect Sunday. Go.” He asked.

“Ooh, let’s see. Go for a nice walk. Head to brunch. Maybe hit a farmers’ market. Then…I dunno. Relax. Take a nap, watch tv, whatever. Cook up whatever I got at the market. I dunno, I work at home and make my own hours, so maybe get some work done, maybe meet with friends.”

“That does sound like the perfect Sunday! What kind of work do you do?”

“I narrate audiobooks, mostly. I’m trying my hand at other voice work, too.”

“Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who narrates audiobooks before, how’d you get into that?”

“Well, fairly recently actually. I used to work in tech but needed a career change.” She hastily changed the subject, “What about you? What’s your perfect Sunday?”

“Exercise, eat, spend some time with my family or friends. Maybe tomorrow I’ll listen to an audiobook while I’m running!” he seemed genuinely excited.

“Not a bad idea! Are you an early riser, to run?”

“Yeah, usually. You?”

“Guh, no way. I’m a night owl and would never leave my bed if I didn’t have to, my bed is the _best_.” Was it just wishful thinking, or did he lean a little closer?

“Oh reeeally?” his tone had lowered a little, conspiratorially. “Not even for that perfect Sunday?”

“Well, not tomorrow anyway. I’ll probably need to sleep in.”

“Big plans for tonight, night owl?” he quirked an eyebrow at her over his sunglasses. Damn, he was hot.

“Nah, Greg was my ride, so I’ve got to sort out some complicated combination of Lyft and transit. I know how to party, what can I say,” she shrugged.

“I can give you a ride,” he offered.

She gasped theatrically, “My mom said I’m not supposed to get in cars with strangers!”

“Not even if I have candy?”

“Hmm, well…What kind of candy?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he gave her a cheeky grin.

* * *

“Thanks for the ride, I hope it wasn’t too far out of your way,” she said as he walked her to her door.

“No, I’m just up the hill, this is on the way,” he demurred.

“Still, I appreciate it. It would have been 3 hours by bus, or a super expensive Lyft. Plus, I really enjoyed hanging out with you today.”

“So did I,” he agreed. She definitely wasn’t imagining it, he was leaning in a bit closer. “I…uh…” he hesitated. “I should probably go. I should call my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling. It was still a great time.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it really was.” He stood for a moment, looking like he was considering something she couldn’t let herself hope for. But instead, he took a deep breath and walked away. She just leaned on the door jamb, savoring the view. He looked over his shoulder, just briefly. When he rounded his car, he took one lingering look, and gave a wave with a cheeky smile. She waved back, and he got into his car & drove off.

As she went back into the house, she couldn’t stop her mind from spinning through the possibilities. She’d been narrating a lot of romance novels, so she couldn’t pull her mind back from thoughts of fate, meet-cutes, star-crossed lovers. She couldn’t bring herself all the way to love at first sight. She was an inherently practical woman. But there was a real spark there. Chemistry. Whatever you want to call it.

But…he had a girlfriend. He didn’t ask for her number, and she didn’t give it to him. She would never see him again. It passed her mind that she wished Sebastian had sat next to her, maybe he was single, and they would have had great chemistry? But he didn’t seem terribly interested in chatting with her. Oh well. She would have to just enjoy the memories of a beautiful September Saturday, watching a soccer match with the hottest guy in the world, and flirting up a storm. Few would believe her, but she’d know.


	2. Prologue, Part 2: Perfect Sunday

Surely no one would ring the doorbell at this hour. Not on a Sunday. Must be a bad dream. She was starting to nod off again, when the doorbell rang again. 3 times. She hauled herself out of bed and grabbed her robe, shouting an obligatory “I’m coming!” to the intruder. She looked through the peephole, and gently hit her head to the door. Of course.

“Ok, lazybones, if you want brunch we’ve got to get moving now!” Chris said as she opened the door.

“…what?” she blinked into the morning light.

“Perfect Sunday! Let’s do it!”

“But brunch is breakfast-lunch. It’s too early. Come inside, crazy.”

“You said you wanted to start with a walk, so get dressed and let’s take my dog on a hike.”

“And I couldn’t sleep for another hour?”

“Nope. So unless you’re going to hike in that robe, which I wouldn’t object to, you should get dressed in five minutes or I’m carrying you out.”

“Christ, fine! You win, I’m changing! Are you going to come in?”

“My dog is in the car, so I’ll wait out here. Go!”

She groaned, and shut the door, smiling despite herself. Well this was interesting. Mr “I better call my girlfriend” was back on her doorstep, 9 hours later, preparing to force her to have a perfect Sunday? This felt like some kind of trap. But he did seem serious about the timing, so she scurried back to her room to get ready as quickly as possible. Thank god she’d done laundry yesterday, and took a shower before bed, so she just had to pick out a cute-yet-practical outfit, brush her teeth, and try to rearrange her hair into a less bed-heady look. It took more like 7 minutes, because sports bras aren’t easy, but he didn’t carry her out.

* * *

Her kitchen was thoughtfully laid-out, but not large. Perfect for her to move around in, and nothing was too far out of reach, but having a second person, especially a six-foot-something, broad-shouldered superhero, made for a bit of a squeeze. Considering they’d known each other for about 24 hours, it was a bit of a test of their communication skills. But they had been together for about 16 of those hours, so they had found a groove. Didn’t mean they weren’t brushing up against each other non-stop as she instructed him. But it did mean they were both pretending like each touch was an accident.

“Ok! I think we’re in the clear! When the pork is done in the sous vide, I’ll brown it on the stove, and the bread should be done at the same time. Want to make butter?”

“The fuck, Riddle? Are you serious? Is there a butter churn in your laundry room or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t want it with my dirty clothes!”

He stared at her incredulously. She laughed, “I’m kidding, ya dummy. We can make it with a mixer. Grab the heavy cream from the fridge.” He chuckled, but did as she asked. She put the whisk attachment on the mixer, poured in some cream, added salt, and turned it on high. “Okay” she shouted, “basically we just wait until the fat separates out. Then we have butter!”

His hand was already on her face. He was just wiping off some cream that splashed on it, but he didn’t even realize what he was doing, it was so automatic to touch her. “Sorry, you had a little something there.” He forced himself to pull his hand away, “so that’s it?”

“Yup. Here, watch, it’ll turn into whipped cream, then destabilize and separate, and then we have butter!”

He settled in behind her. He could smell her hair, and had to use every ounce of his strength not to press into her, to start kissing her neck, to grab her hips. But he just stared at the mixer. Breathed deeply. Focused on control.

She could feel his breath hot on her neck. She knew she should try to pull away, but the only escape was through him, and she didn’t trust herself not to just lean into him. So she simply stood there, not trusting herself to do anything more elaborate. But eventually, the butter coalesced, and she had to break the spell.


	3. Prologue, Part 3: Karaoke

“Ugh. I’m too full to move! I’m gonna die right here on this couch,” Chris declared.

“Aw, that’s too bad, I like this couch. I don’t want death on it,” she nudged his leg with hers as she collapsed on the couch next to him.

“Okay, fine. I’ll pull through. But Dodger and I might have to live here.”

“Dodger’s in. But you’d have to pay rent,” she insisted

“Can’t I sing for my supper?” he wheedled.

“Ha! I guess that depends on how good you are.”

“Well that sounds like a dare. You’re on.”

“Karaoke showdown, here in my living room?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“Ooh, because I have just the app for this.”

“Why does that sound vaguely ominous?” his eyebrows moved in ways that didn’t seem entirely fair. “This isn’t that DubSmash thing, is it?”

She grabbed her iPad from the coffee table and scooted toward him on the couch. “Nope. It’s Wheel-araoke, I helped develop it. Basically, instead of just picking your favorite songs, you spin the wheel and it will give you a category. We can play karaoke videos from YouTube, and stream them on my TV.”

“Wait…what do you mean you ‘helped develop it’?” he quirked that eyebrow again.

“I used to work in tech, I helped some friends put this together. Enough about that, let’s do this before you chicken out,” she egged him on.

“Oh, it’s on.”

“Ok, here are the categories it has by default,” she explained, scooting closer to him so he could see the screen. “Anything you want to take out or add?”

He considered the list. “I don’t think I can do country.”

“That’s for the best, I just do Jolene every time I get that one, so if I spin poorly it can get repetitive. What would you say to me adding Disney songs?”

His face lit up, “I would love it so much. Now it’s _truly_ on.”

“Alright, we’re set! And since you started this song-fight, you should go first. Take a spin!” she offered him the iPad.

He flicked his finger across the screen, per instructions. “Alright, here we goooo…and the winner is: A Sexy Song! Ooh, well…this is hard, I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

She smirked, “Sorry but: that’s what he said. I had to!”

He tipped his hat to her, “Well played, ma’am. Ok, I think I know the song,” he declared as he punched something into his phone.

“Alright, you can connect to the TV and put it up there!”

“Ok, I’m not a very tech-savvy person but I think I’ve got it.”

“Alright, well let’s see what you’ve got then! I’m not going to find a mic for this, but you can use the remote for added realism.”

“Ooh, good idea.”

His first pick was “Shape of You” by Ed Sheeran. She made him stand and use the “mic”, he did a little self-conscious dancing. It was pretty adorable, and he had a good voice. She was kinda surprised, actually. She didn’t think he’d been in any musicals or anything, not that she could remember. But he had the voice for it. “Wow! I’m impressed! You just may be able to sing for your supper after all.”

“Thanks. I’d like to be in a musical, so I’ve been working on it. But, now it’s your turn! Let’s see what you got, Riddle!”

“Let’s see where the wheel takes me!” She spun, and it landed on Disney Songs. “Ooh, I’m the reason this is even in the app, it’s so on!” She unlocked her phone and directed it to a video for “Part of Your World.” From the first few notes, he was already filming. She tried to object, but with the song starting, she couldn’t let herself not sing it. She sang through it with practiced ease.

Before the last note had even finished, he gave her a standing ovation, Dodger joined in. “…wow!” he stammered, “I’m speechless! That was amazing! When you said you do voice work, I assumed it was just speaking, but you’re a perfect princess!”

“Well, I’m trying to get a singing part. I haven’t been successful yet. And while I want nothing more than to be a Disney princess, I’ve got the wrong combination of ‘too old’ and ‘too little experience’ to get that part.”

“But your voice is perfect!”

“Thanks. But it hardly matters if no one will hear it.”

“And you want to? Be a princess, that is?”

“It would be a dream. We couldn’t afford voice lessons when I was little, so singing Disney songs was how I learned to sing. I’m still a huge Dis-geek.”

“Well, don’t give up. Someone will listen. I did. And I loved it.”

“You’re very kind. But I think you’re stalling. Give it a spin!”

He clutched his chest dramatically, “I’m wounded, how could you accuse me of that! Well, I’ll take that subject-change for what it was, and I’ll spin.”

They continued back and forth for a few more songs. The app made things a little harder with just two people trying to think of songs. He was about to call it quits when she got the “Sexy” category. He had to see this.

She scrunched up her face in concentration. Oh, this wasn’t fair. He had a girlfriend. She really liked hanging out with him, and of course he was extremely hot, but she didn’t want to be an evil seductress or something. At the same time, he was the one who came to _her_ house to give _her_ the perfect Sunday, and he did it on his last day in town. And it was the category she’d landed on. No point in pulling punches.

She stood and straightened her shirt. The song started with a slow drum groove, and she sashayed to the “stage,” starting to sing with her back towards him. “I want every single piece of you. I want your heaven and your oceans too” she slowly spun around, and rubbed her neck. “Kiss me soft but touch me cruel, I wanna teach you things you never knew baby.”

He was entranced. He wanted to get up and dance with her. Hell, he wanted to get up and kiss her. He had to force himself to just sit back and enjoy the show, ignore how badly his hands itched to reach out and touch her. Pull her onto his lap, run his hand up under her shirt…no. Maybe he should sit on his hands. But, before he knew it, the song was over.

“Okay, I admit defeat. I can’t top that. You win!”

“It wasn’t a competition!” she started, but his phone rang. She thought his face fell a little.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta take this.”

“No worries, I’ll give you a minute, and get some water. Want anything?”

He shook his head and went to answer. She walked off and tried not to look back as she heard him say “Hey, what’s up? Oh, not much, just hanging out with a friend.” She wasn’t trying to listen in, but her house wasn’t big, so it was hard not to. When she finished filling her glass, she heard “Yeah, I’m packed. I know, I’ll head out soon. Of course I want to see you, babe. I thought you were busy all day. But I’ll head out. K, I love you too. Bye.”

Well, that was a buzzkill. Nothing like turning on the seduction high beams and then having your target get a call from his girlfriend. Oh well, it was probably for the best. Lusting after super-famous be-coupled guys who are about to leave town for months was not exactly a smart strategy. She gave him an extra moment, and then walked back in.

He stood and stepped towards her. “Hey, I’ve had an amazing time. But I should get going, my flight is pretty early tomorrow.”

“Well, thanks for giving me the perfect Sunday. I loved it.”

“This feels like a weird thing to ask, considering we just spent all day together, but…can I get your number?”

“I guess we kinda missed that step! Here, gimme your phone.” She created a contact for herself, including adding a quick silly selfie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, as far as I know, Wheel-araoke isn't a thing. But I would like it to be, so if you decide to turn this into a real app, LMK!


	4. New Ventures, New Friends

When she met Chris, she never would have anticipated how her life would change. Six months later, she was getting ready to be interviewed about the release of the Disney princess movie she had just starred in. When Chris filmed her doing karaoke, he knew something she didn’t. They both knew that there had been an open call put out by Disney for female singers. But what she didn’t know was that it was because an actress had to back out of one of the lead roles, and they were looking for a replacement. Shyla had already submitted an audition reel, as she had to a number of open calls, never expecting to hear back. But Chris had his agent make sure the karaoke video actually had human eyeballs look at it. It made it to the casting director, who pulled her audition reel. And they called her in! Shortly thereafter, she was rearranging her book recording schedule so she could work around the schedule for Frozen, the new movie that she was going to be a princess in! They had to do a lot of work fast, and it was such a strange process for her, but the film turned out amazingly.

And she’d kept in touch with Chris, they texted non-stop and did video calls whenever time zones and schedules aligned. They’d hardly seen each other in person, but they just connected so well, they swiftly became best friends. She told him all about her past, including the whole widow thing. He supported her through her trying to date. It was mostly misadventures, unfortunately, but she was trying to keep her chin up. She supported Chris after he broke up with his girlfriend, his filming schedule was just too intense, and they were fighting too much.

The press junket for Frozen was both better and worse than she thought it would be. It was grueling, hitting so many cities in very few days, much less trying to answer a lot of questions while exhausted and jetlagged, yet still coming across like a perky princess. Part way through the tour, a press release went out announcing that she had been cast in the next Captain America movie in the role of Songbird. That role wasn’t even directly Chris’ doing, it was mostly a Disney thing, the directors had approached the Frozen casting director to talk about female singers, and they got to talking about Shyla. And, of course, Chris recommended her highly. So the rest was, as they say, history.

The press release didn’t give a lot of details about how her character was going to fit in, either with the franchise in general or in the Civil War mentioned in the title, so some of her interviews started drifting to being more about her Marvel-future than her princess-past. So here she was, in the middle of the New York stretch of the junket, one of the 1-on-1 interviews turned to focus primarily on that.

“So, you were recently cast in the next Avengers movie! That’s gotta be a little different for you,” the interviewer asked about 3 questions deep.

“I’ll say! Frozen was pretty much just sitting there repeating my lines in a small room over and over again. It was an amazing experience, but now I’m going to actually have all of this on screen,” she gestured vaguely to her face and body, “so the game is changing quite a lot.”

“Are you already training?” God, she wished she could remember the interviewer’s name. She wasn’t jazzed about these kinds of questions, and it was easier to be sarcastic if you remember the name of the person you’re talking to.

“Oh god, yes. Lots of fight training on my own, and just working out a lot more. But a lot of it is just getting ready for the physicality of being onscreen.” Maybe she could salvage it with a smartypants response instead of talking about her workout? Worth a shot.

“How so?” He took the bait, score.

“Well, I spent a lot of time talking with the Russos about how to balance everything with this character. She’s a total badass, she’s a musician, she’s a friggin’ muay thai fighter, and she’s a superhero. I’m a curvy 5’3” nerd, and I wanted to portray her in a way that was powerful without just being about the male gaze. I’d like to think I can bring my own femininity to the character, but I’m having to learn how to have that physical power.”

“So how does a 5’3” nerd embody the physicality of a superhero?” he sounded a little condescending, but she had to keep up the princess part, even if he clearly didn’t give a shit about the movie she was here to talk about.

“She studies, of course! I’ve been watching so, so many videos. Mostly of really big men. They’re naturally physically imposing, but it’s not just because they’re huge. So when Joe Manganiello or Henry Cavill approaches a character, or does a fight scene, what are they doing with their body to make them so intimidating?”

“That must have been some difficult research!”

“Yeah, what can I say, I sacrifice so much for my craft,” she said in a sarcastically vapid voice. “It was super hard having to watch gorgeous, huge dudes and study their bodies. I’m _very_ brave.”

“Well what did you learn in all this bravery?”

“Well, I got some really good ideas. Henry Cavill did this thing with his arms that was just _fire_. I think I owe him dinner, for ripping off his moves like I intend to. Really, I watched him so much I probably owe him breakfast, too!” She gave the camera a cheeky grin. It was true, but really, she was mostly tired of this interviewer. She’d sex it up a little, and then change subjects back to the children’s cartoon she was here to promote. Nothing like a little psychic whiplash to make an otherwise dull interview a bit more interesting. For her, anyway.

* * *

She heard her phone buzzing through her sleepy haze. When she finally reached over to grab it, she saw she had a text from an unknown number from the UK. She unlocked her phone, opened her messaging app, and saw “Hello, Shyla Riddle? This is Henry Cavill, I hear you owe me dinner?”

She tapped out “Har har har, who is this really?” and closed her eyes again.

But she didn’t get much respite, before she felt the phone buzz again. This time it was a picture, and it was definitely Henry Cavill, holding up a pad of paper with “What kind of dinner?” written on it, as proof. She did a reverse image search, just in case someone had ripped off a random picture online and photoshopped in the words. Nope, she couldn’t find something similar anywhere. Shit, maybe it was really him? He was so, _so_ handsome.

S: Well, I suppose dinner would depend on where we are located. Did you have a city in mind?

H: I’m currently in London. I’ll be in LA for a while during award season. Or we could pick another city, but that would depend on what move you ruthlessly stole from me.

S: Ooh, it was a pretty good move, so I owe you pretty big. I’ll actually be in London next week for some press stuff! I was going to hang out in Europe for a while after that, but I didn’t have very specific plans.

H: Excellent, I’ll send along some dates. Shall I pick the restaurant?

S: Sure! Can I ask…how did you get my number?

H: I’ll tell you over dinner, how does that sound?

S: Cheeky, but I accept your terms!

Uh…did she just agree to a date with friggin’ Superman? Who hunted down HER phone number? What bizarro world was she living in? She sunk down under the covers and started mentally throwing out every single dress she owned, trying to figure out what the fuck one wears on a dinner date with Henry Cavill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to play fast and loose with timelines in this story. Honestly, I was too lazy to make up imaginary movies, so we are going to pretend that Frozen came out Thanksgiving 2014 (one year later than reality), so it was released a few months before filming would start for Civil War. And that Kristen Bell, amazing though she is and will forever be, was rendered unable to do Frozen, so our main character stepped up to play Anna.


	5. Not a Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to keep promises

She was still not one hundred percent sure this wasn’t an elaborate prank. She was walking up to one of the hottest restaurants in London, in her nicest dress, conceptually going to meet one of the hottest guys in the world. And she was waiting for some late-night host to come popping out of a bush, ready to make an ass of her. But all she could do was square her shoulders and face this. She checked her coat at the desk, walked up to the hostess stand, gave her name, and no one jumped out. The hostess lead her over to a small private room, and who stood to greet her but Henry Cavill. She nearly gasped at how handsome he was.

He stepped over to her, gave her a little European cheek kiss. “Nice to meet you in person, Shyla. You look stunning,” he breathed, looking a little floored.

She blushed and looked down a little, “You don’t look too shabby yourself. And the pleasure’s all mine! Thank you for being an unwitting victim of my creative thefts.”

He pulled out her chair for her, and she sat. “Well, if this is the reward I get, I’ll take it!” He settled into his seat, grinning at her. “I’ll admit, I’m a little surprised you’re here.”

“To be honest, I’m surprised _you’re_ here! The whole way here I thought someone would jump out at me, and announce it was a prank.”

“Well here we are!”

“Here we are!” she made a shrugging gesture that she intended to look casual but immediately regretted. “So, do I get to know your side of the story?”

“Well, I was minding my own business, when a friend tells me that the cute new Avenger has been checking out my moves and asked me out via an interview,” he threw out casually. Wow, this was a level of flirt she wasn’t prepared for.

Her voice got real high-pitched, as she corrected, “Would we say I asked you out?”

“Well, _we_ watched the interview, and _we_ definitely would say you did. So I wanted to collect on what I was owed.”

“And how did the collection process happen? How did you get my number?”

“I watched some more of your interviews, and you’d mentioned being friends with Chris Evans. We’d met before, gotten drinks together, so I had his number, and asked for yours.”

She was a little surprised Chris would do that without saying anything, but it was a happy surprise. “Excellent detective work!”

“Do I get to know what move it was that you thought was so hot you had to steal it from me?” His eyebrows...Jesus.

“Maybe later, I don’t know if this is the proper venue…” she gave him the same cheeky grin from the interview.

“Then I have that to look forward to,” he gave her a grin back. He licked his lips a little, and looked down, almost bashfully. “You really do look stunning. And thank you for asking me out.”

“I’m still not sure I’m the one who asked you out!”

“I believe your words were, and I quote, ‘I think I owe him dinner’…and then there was something about breakfast, if I recall?” he switched from bashful back to cheeky with such ease.

“Maybe it’s just the whole British/American thing, it didn’t translate across dialects,” she continued grinning at him.

“Ah, yes, the great continental divide. Well, out of sheer embarrassment for my misunderstanding, I suppose I should just leave…” he heaved a dramatic sigh, put his hands on the table, and made to get up.

She reached across, and took his hand, and grimaced dramatically, “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you? Stay. Stay on this date with me, that I asked you out on even if I never anticipated ever even meeting you, much less actually going on this ridiculous date.”

“Oh, so now it’s ridiculous?” he quirked an eyebrow at her in mock offense.

“Well, I think most voice actors would find it a little ridiculous to have Superman hunt down their phone number after they made a joke in a somewhat obscure interview…yes, I would say that’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, that’s fair, when you put it in that way, that does sound a little ridiculous,” he smiled at her. “But you’re now joining the echelons of superheroes! So, really, I’m basically a goodwill ambassador!”

“Oh, silly me! Of course that’s what this is! Although, you’re DC and I’m Marvel, are you sure this isn’t, like, fraternizing with the enemy or something?”

“I don’t recall having anything about it in the contract.” The server came by, and took their orders. When they were alone again, Henry asked, “So, you’re pretty new to acting, is that correct?”

“Yes and no. I’ve been doing voice work for a bit now, but mostly audiobooks, a few video games. And then Frozen came along. And…now I’m a Disney Princess and an Avenger!”

“That’s brilliant! Audiobooks and video games? That’s really cool. What books and games?”

“Well, for books, it’s been a lot, you crank through those a lot faster than a movie. I can do a couple books in a week if they aren’t too long. Mostly fantasy and romance.”

“I love fantasy books! Although I’d be very interested to hear you read a romance novel…”

“Yeah, they’re a bit different from Frozen. The really risqué stuff is under a pseudonym, though, and I will never give that information up.”

“Well, now I have a new life’s mission!” he smiled at her, but didn’t push. “Alright, what video games did you work on, then?

“Destiny. Assassin’s Creed. A lot of little miscellaneous games as well. None of it has been huge work, little voices you hear in a market, but it's fun.”

His jaw dropped a little, “Those are some excellent games! I’m generally more of a fantasy fan than scifi, but well done, you!”

“You really are a nerd, aren’t you? No judgement, I just read something about it, but I had trouble believing it.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Excellent, nerds are my people.”

“Oh? And in what way are you nerdy?”

“It’s a pretty long list. I worked in tech before moving to VO work, I played video games, I read entirely too much even when it’s not work-related.”

“I’m not sure one really can read too much.”

They settled into an easy, flirty conversation. She was still not entirely convinced this was real. Maybe he was just being nice? Or he just had a flirty personality in general? But, either way, she had a great time. When the meal wrapped up, she wasn’t really sure what to do next. She started feeling the nerves rise in her stomach, do they just go their separate ways? What if he never wants to see her again? What if he wants to sleep with her, like, now? She still hadn’t gotten used to dating again since her husband passed, and she had no idea how it worked with mega-celebs.

He helped her into her coat, and her mind was reeling, her stomach just a mess of butterflies. As she put her arms in the sleeves, he leaned down to her ear, “I would hate for the night to end just yet. Would you be interested in getting drinks?”

She smiled, turning her face towards him a little, “I would love that,” she agreed, and he smiled as he straightened up. “Did you have any place in mind?”

“Well, where is your hotel?”

She almost jumped at how forward he suddenly was. “Oh, I, uh…”

He realized how it sounded, and stammered, “Oh, no, I’m sorry, I just meant so I don’t take you too far. I live in Kensington, so my usual haunts are not particularly nearby.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. Holborn, I’m staying at the Rosewood. They do have a bar, with an excellent whisky selection.”

“A whisky woman? Innnteresting. Well, I drove here.”

“I didn’t think people in London drove anywhere! Well, we don’t need to abandon your vehicle. Shall we?”

He offered his arm, and she took it. She felt a little weak, feeling his amazing arms, even through the layers. But if he objected to the way she leaned into him, he certainly didn’t say anything. The valet brought the car around, and Henry opened the door for her. This was happening. A guy doesn’t go for drinks at your hotel to shake your hand at the end of the night.

She tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t stop looking at him in the car. His legs stretched towards the pedals, his hand on the gear shift, his god-like profile. She felt her breath coming short just looking at him. And when he looked at her when the car stopped…if there wasn’t already a valet trotting up to open the doors, she was certain that he would have kissed her. They got out, and he took her arm again as they walked through the doors. It was a weeknight, so it wasn’t terribly busy in the bar. They found a cozy booth in the back, and he took her coat. The tips of his fingers ran along her arms as he did, leaving a trail of goosebumps. She wanted to lean back into his chest, she could feel his breath on her neck.

They settled in, looked at the menu, and put in their drink order. They cozied up together, he put his arm around the back of the booth, and she sat close. She looked up at him from under her long lashes, still surprised to see an excited smile on his face.

“Did I mention you look stunning?” he said.

She blushed even deeper, “I blushed hard enough the first two times you said it, are you going for a record?”

“You’re also stunning when you blush. Which explains my equally stunning lack of vocabulary,” he ran his hand over his mouth, embarrassed.

“Mmm, well, I know what I’m getting you for Christmas!”

He raised an eyebrow, “What’s that?”

“A thesaurus,” she smirked, and poked him in the side. God, every inch of him must be made of muscle. She left her finger there, trying to muster up the strength to look at his eyes. But she didn’t have to, she felt his finger under her chin, gently lifting her face to his.

She expected him just to kiss her, but he just stared at her for a second. She licked her lips, and he breathed “Stunning,” before finally lowering his lips to hers.

She thought her heart might leap into her mouth. It was just a sweet kiss, but it was…stunning. His lips were perfection. She was so suddenly lightheaded she spared a thought to be concerned she might pass out. But he released the kiss, and her eyes fluttered open to see his smiling face.

“Exquisite?” she exhaled, “Dazzling?”

He blinked at her for a second, “It’s not fair to be clever after a kiss.”

“We can give it a moment, let some of the blood return to your brain,” she offered.

“Clever girls really are the most trouble,” he whispered into her ear.

“Just wait til you see how much trouble a clever woman can be.”


	6. Good Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to hold off on the smut, maybe leave it out entirely. lol, nevermind, rating changed, here you go!

A live band was playing, making it a little hard to hold a conversation. They sipped their drinks, then she would stretch her neck to say something in his ear, an observation of the other patrons, speculation about their lives, little jokes. He would laugh, then lean down to whisper something in her ear, either an observation of his own or something to try to get her to blush again. Mostly it seemed like an excuse to touch her, graze his lips against her ear, let his fingers brush on her knee.

When their glasses were empty, she found she was leaning very close. He bent to her ear, “Shall we order another round?” This time, he didn’t withdraw immediately, he let his hand linger at her knee.

She turned her face up until they were cheek to cheek, putting a hand on his chest, “I think I’m ready for a change of venue, if you are…”

He pulled out his wallet and there was cash on the table before she could blink, and then she was guiding him up to her room. She felt positively dizzy. It wasn’t the first person she’d been with since her husband passed, or even the first one-night-stand, as she was preparing for this to be. But so many of her other dates had been disastrous, or just not entirely healthy choices. But she felt good about this. They weren’t wasted, he was extremely hot, he was interested in her, and she wasn’t doing it because of grief or loneliness or even just because she was horny and bored. And now she’d get to see what the Man of Steel was all about.

He was very polite during the walk and the elevator ride. A few stolen kisses, lots of lingering looks. This hotel hosted a number of celebrity guests, so they were unlikely to sell security footage to a gossip column, but still, he remained a gentleman. As soon as the door shut behind them, he pulled her in for a kiss, both of them dropping their coats. She stood on tiptoe, arms around his neck. He lifted her, giggling and feet dangling, and carried her further into the room. She kicked off her pumps before he put her down. She pulled him by the shirt, kissing him and backing him up until his legs hit the bed. He straightened, smiling and pulling his suit jacket off and tossing it aside. He sat on the side of the bed and pulled her in by the waist.

It was her turn to look down at him, hands busying themselves with his tie. “This seems like leveling the playing field a bit better.”

“Mmm, the view is better down here anyway,” spreading his hands across her back. She bent a little to kiss him, while making her way through his shirt buttons. By the time he was shirtless, he’d kicked off his shoes too, and held her back for a moment. “Well, now things seem unfair again, things have tilted in your favor. You’re overdressed.”

“In the interest of fairness, I have fewer layers to work through.” She spun in his hands, turning her back to him so he could unzip her. She started removing the pins from her hair, and when it tumbled down her back he brushed it back over her shoulder, and slowly rolled the zipper down her back, kissing the exposed skin. He slid the dress off her arms, tracing his fingers along her skin, revealing a bare back: the bodice of her dress fit snugly enough, she didn’t need a bra. She was down to a lacy pair of panties and a pair of thigh-high stockings that seemed to be holding themselves up by pure will and elastic. “See? One simple zipper and the tables have turned in your favor.”

He pulled her into his lap, kissing her neck and looking over her shoulder at her front. “They certainly have!” he murmured into her neck, moving his hands to cup her breasts. Her breath hitched when his fingers found her nipples, and she could feel a rumble spread through his chest. She plunged her fingers through his hair as he kissed her neck and shoulder. She ground her ass into him and enjoyed the moan next to her ear. She stood, turned around, and his hands were already snatching at her, grabbing her hand and hip, reeling her back in. She climbed onto him, straddling his lap and kissing him deeply.

Their movements had been slow, languorous up to this point, with the luxury of knowing they have as much of the night to seduce each other as they want. But when she landed in his lap, things changed. They became needier. Soft caresses turned into clutching, gripping. Suggestive nudges became pushes, not violent, just directing the other to where to be, how to move. She ground down into him, pressing their chests together, crushing herself into him. Their tongues danced, and he tangled his fingers in her har, squeezing her until she gasped for air.

She looked down at him, ran her hand over his face, stopping on his jaw, resting her thumb in the little cleft on his chin. “Fuck me.”

His eyes sparkled, “Now?”

She rolled her eyes at him a little, “Why would you second-guess that? Yes, now!”

“I just thought you might want to…” he started but she cut him off with a kiss, and reached between them to grab his cock.

Point made.

He lay them both down and rolled so he was on top of her, but then stood. He tugged her panties off, leaving the stockings on, and then made quick work of his remaining clothes. He was…glorious. He was like a Greek statue come to life. They just looked at each other for a moment, mutually stunned. He broke the spell, moving towards her, but she sat up, putting a hand on his abs to stop him. She rifled through her nightstand, finding a condom, kissing his torso. She looked up at him as she rolled it down his length, watched his eyes close for a moment, then kept him in her grip as she leaned back, guiding him towards her.

He grabbed her hips, pulling her to the edge of the bed, and entered her in one smooth stroke. She cried out, arching her back. She kept herself propped on one arm, and used the other to grab at him, clutching his arm as he held her. He gave her a moment to adjust to his girth, but had difficulty slowing himself. Seeing the look on her face, the way her body moved, so uninhibited, it overwhelmed his senses, and before he could stop himself he was driving into her. But she rose to meet him, her claws digging into the sheets and his arm as an orgasm slammed through her. He had to exercise every ounce of restraint in his body to not come with her. But they had plenty of time ahead of them, he couldn’t finish now. He slowed his pace while she caught her breath.

She collapsed back on her elbows, panting, and looked at him from under her lashes. “What’s next?” she grinned up at him.

He returned her grin. “On your knees,” he growled, sliding out, crawling onto the bed behind her.

She gripped the headboard an looked over her shoulder at him, “Ready when you are, big guy.”

He took a moment, moving her long hair, running his hands over her. He kissed her shoulder and entered her, relishing her gasp. He leaned back, took his time. Long, slow strokes while he explored her body with his hands. He couldn’t keep himself away from her breasts, they were magnetic. Try though he might to keep a slow pace, the way she pushed her ass back into him made it impossible. And then she dipped her hand between her legs…he was undone. Faster, harder, he distantly heard her cry out as he was gripped by his own climax.

When he opened his eyes, she was still propped against the headboard, panting. He sat back on his heels to catch his breath for a moment, still admiring her. She turned to face him, smiling contentedly, and held his face in her hands to kiss him. He could smell her on her fingers, and almost got hard again just from the scent, he hadn’t known that was possible.

“Thank you,” she purred, sitting herself down to roll her stockings off, and then reclining on the pillows.

He shook his head, a little incredulous at her polite appreciation after...everything. He crawled off the bed, and kissed her on the hip before going to clean himself up. He was already wondering how long she'd be in town for, and how much he could clear his schedule for her.


	7. Early Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We fast forward a few months, it's time to get down to training!

“Sebastian? Hi, I’m Shyla! I…I don’t know if you remember me. We’ve met before…” she timidly suggested.

“At the Galaxy game! Good to see you again,” he gave her a big hug. Of course he remembered her. He didn’t want to say that part, but she wasn’t the kind of person you easily forgot. Blue hair, big gray eyes, and amazing curves, it all painted a picture. Chris had kind of hogged her attention at the game, which was shitty given that Chris had a girlfriend at the time. He’d been disappointed that he missed his chance to get her number and was kind of pissed when he later found out that Chris kept hanging out with her. But Chris hadn’t made a move, as far as he knew, even though he’d broken up with his girlfriend and kept in touch with Shyla. And Chris wasn’t supposed to join them in Atlanta for a couple of weeks, so there was no rush, Sebastian could take his time, get to know her a little better.

“Well, it’s good to have a familiar face! Can I admit: I’m kind of terrified right now,” she was cringing like she was already preparing for a hit.

“There’s nothing to be scared of!”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Her eyes got huge, and he couldn’t help but smile. “There’s everything to be afraid of! The only film I’ve worked on before was a cartoon! I sat in a room by myself and repeated myself on and off for a few weeks. And now I’m training and doing fight choreography? It’s a bit of a different experience!”

“When you put it that way, I can see your point. Well, you’ll get the hang of it. We get to kind of ease into it, and you’ll love the cast and crew.”

“Thanks! So, any pro tips to get me started?”

“Hmm…get your nutritionist to setup meal delivery so you can avoid the grocery store when carbs are off limits.”

“Ooh…I don’t know how to tell you this…”

“If your nutritionist sucks, you can talk to mine, she’s really…wait, that’s not what you mean, is it?”

“Nope. I don’t actually have to make weight.”

“WHAT?”

“It was my only real demand in my contract. They can put requirements on how I train, but not on my weight, BMI, body comp, or nutrition.” She made a cringey, apologetic face in response to his shocked look. “Hey, I had to draw the line somewhere! Besides, if they didn’t want someone a little curvier for this part, they should have cast someone else.”

“I didn’t know that was an option!”

“I mean, it kind of wasn’t, they fought me hard. But in the end, I’d like to think feminism won.”

“Shit, I need to talk to my agent, that’s some bullshit. I mean, not that feminism won, that I can’t eat fries. Well, good for you.”

“Any other tips that aren’t food-related? I’m pretty sure the training will kill me, regardless of whether or not I can console myself with cake.”

“Well, start slow. The trainers are awesome, they’ll get to know you & your body, they don’t want you to get hurt either. They will push you pretty hard though.”

“Okay, what about stunts and fight choreography?”

“Oh calm down, you’ll be fine,” he patted her shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

“Well, thank you for your vote of confidence, even if it’s not really deserved.”

“You’ll see. So are you staying at the apartments here in Atlanta?”

“Yeah, I am! You?”

“Yup, 3rd floor.”

“Me too!” she grabbed his arm in her enthusiasm. “We’re practically roomies, how cute!”

“Well I’m hoping you don’t cook much or the ventilation is good, because if I have to smell homemade meals all the time…”

“I’ll cross my fingers for good ventilation. And I’ll make you a deal: If I’m making something that seems like it could work for your plan, I’ll let you know, and if you need a cheat day or something, you let me know. Fair?” She extended her hand for him to shake. He grinned, and took it. “What are the foods you miss most, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Pizza. Pasta. Burgers. Fries.”

“You don’t miss the sweets?”

“Oh, I do, I just hadn’t gotten to that part yet. Ice cream. Doughnuts. Cake. Ugh, this is gonna be rough.”

“Okay, I will go easy on the carby food smells and talk. So, Sebastian, how about that…local sports team?” she grimaced and laughed, “Sorry, I’ve got nothing.”

“Well, to start with, you can call me Seb, everybody does. Then…tell me about yourself.”

They chatted until the fight choreographer came over to meet them. Shyla had been really surprised by Sebastian, she thought he’d maybe been a little standoffish when they first met. But Chris had been so chatty and charming, and the stadium was so loud, it might have just been hard to get a word in. But she was finding she really enjoyed talking to him. He was also very cute, she had to admit. He was already growing his hair out for the role, she could tell, which was not really her style but it kinda worked on him. His eyes were lovely, and he had really great lips. The tight workout shirt also did not hurt the view, they still had lots of training ahead before shooting started, but his arms and chest were amazing. The loose shorts made it a bit harder to check out his ass, but she had faith it would be nice, too.

She had to shake herself out of it. She had promised herself she would not date a coworker, not during filming. Or even non-coworkers, much though she’d enjoyed spending time with Henry, both in London and for a stint in LA in February, she didn't really think it would work. It had been great, but it had been all sex, and that was fine, but jumping from that to a long-distance relationship while filming didn't make sense. She knew she was too distractable as-is, and this was kind of her big debut. Since Frozen came out first, people had heard her voice, maybe seen her in some interviews, but this was the first time her face would be on-screen, and she didn’t want her performance to suck because she was thinking about banging her costar, or because she was trying not to cry because she’d been dumped by someone by text. But all of this was putting the cart before the horse. Now it was time to focus on pretending to punch him in the face.


	8. Cheat Day

They had survived the first week of training, and were headed back to the apartment building Marvel had put them up in. “Well, I’m going to just curl up in my bed and not leave until Monday!” Shyla whined.

“That bad, huh?”

“I hurt in muscles I didn’t know existed!”

“Oh, poor baby! Well, at least you can have cake.”

“Oh, and I will. I just can’t decide if I should make something or just buy it. What’s the verdict on ventilation, could you smell what I was cooking on Wednesday?”

“I didn’t smell a thing!”

“Good to know! Well, I won’t tell you my cooking plans, I don’t need to torture you.”

“Is it weird that I really want to hear you describe eating a burger to me?” He scrunched up his face, “It is weird.”

She struck a pinup pose, “Ooh, hey baby, you wanna hear all about a juicy, dripping burger?” she purred at him seductively, then switched back to her normal voice. “It’s not weird at all, given your restrictions! Although I might have to charge by the minute. Are you needing a cheat day already?”

“Hey, let me take you out tomorrow. I’ll have a cheat day, I know some amazing restaurants around Atlanta. We could spend some time getting to know each other a little better over a couple drinks…” If his intentions weren’t clear from the question itself, the way he looked at her as he ran a finger lightly up her arm clarified perfectly. He had a solid 9” of height on her, but still managed to look at her from under heavy lashes, and licked his lips in a way that made her toes curl.

She went quiet, and he worried he’d read her all wrong. They’d been flirting all week, and it felt right to ask her out. But she responded, “Seb, I…you’re amazing, and if things were different, I’d love it if you took me out to dinner. But I really want to focus on the work, and I don’t want to date anyone right now. Can we share a meal just as friends?” she was cringing at the very thought of turning him down.

His shoulders slumped a little, and he gave a disappointed sigh. “And that’s non-negotiable?”

“Kinda?” she said, still cringing.

“’Kinda’ isn’t a no…” he took her hand lightly in his, eyebrows raised hopefully.

She squeezed his hand back. “I like you, Seb. It’s not a ‘no, never, for all time.’ It’s a ‘please give me the space to figure out how to be a professional actor without that layer of potential drama for now.’ I’m not joining a convent, I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Okay. But…let me know if the policy changes?”

“I’m pretty sure you’d be the first to know,” she said with a cheeky grin, and his heart soared with hope. “Friends in the meantime?”

“Friends in the meantime. I still want to have a cheat day tomorrow, though.”

“And I support you in that effort, friend! Still want to go to a restaurant? I can cook, if you’d like.”

“Are you sure you’re not dating? Because a homemade meal sounds like straight-up seduction.”

“Fair point, if you want me to take the offer off the table…”

“NO. Oh god, no, please!”

“Yeesh, and this is just after a week, what are you going to be like after months of this?”

“I’m a total nightmare, that’s why I figured I’d front-end the charm. Lure you in early.”

“Cool. Good plan, sounds like I made the right call! Alright, what are you craving?”

“Well, after your burger dirty-talk…that. Or pizza. Or pasta. Really, just anything with carbs.”

“Okay, so nothing fancy, basic man-fare but starchy. Check. Any favorite desserts?”

“I will gladly have anything.”

“Is there anything you don’t eat?”

“As long as you don’t trick me out of my cheat day, I’ll eat whatever!”

“Okay, I’m thinking cake, there’s this one recipe I’ve been dying to try, it’s got…”

“Shhh, don’t tell me,” he smiled, holding a finger to her lips, “I don’t think I can handle the next 24 hours if the fantasies get specific.”

She realized they were still holding hands, and now he was touching her lips. This did not bode well for her no-dating policy, it was going to be an extremely rough couple of months. She rolled her eyes a little at his scenery-chewing portrayal of food fantasies, and when he finally moved his hand, she snapped her teeth like she would bite him. Giving his hand a little squeeze, she let go, but didn’t step away. “Okay, it’ll be a surprise then! This’ll be fun!” They just looked at each other for a moment, and then Shyla turned to continue the walk back to her car.

Seb watched her walk away. It was so disappointing for her to not be dating right now. But at least he’d been right: she was into him, too. And it sounded like she wouldn’t be interested in dating anyone else, either, so that put some points in his favor. He was going to respect the boundary she set, he wasn’t going to ask her out again while they were still filming. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to tempt _her_ into asking _him_ out.

* * *

She heard the knock, and shouted “Come in!” She saw Seb’s head peek out from behind the door, and she waved him over. “Hey, make yourself at home! Sorry, I’m elbow-deep in beef, hard to answer the door.”

“Do you just leave your door unlocked?”

“Only when I already know the prospective intruder. You can lock it now if it makes you feel better.”

“It does, thank you.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Just some of whatever it is I’m smelling. Holy shit, it smells amazing! What are we having? And what can I do to help?”

“Okay, the smell is a buttermilk cake with roasted strawberries, and there will be some homemade ice cream. The main course is going to be burgers, and I’ve got some sweet potato tots, and if you want to pretend to be healthy, I have salad fixin’s, but I will tell you here & now I have no intention of eating a salad tonight. But it’s there if you want it.”

“I think I’m going to cry. If I die tonight, tell everyone I did it in a super manly way.”

“I’ll say a bear broke into the apartment, and you defended me very manfully.”

“Good plan. Okay, put me to work!”

“Alright, well, very first, I need to wash my hands, could you get the faucet and soap me up? I don’t want to get meat on everything.”

“As you wish!” He trotted over, opened the faucet. He put a hand on her lower back and reached past her to grab the soap. As a friend, he probably should have backed up, given her space. But it was impossible to resist using the close quarters of the kitchen to get a little closer to her, so he lingered at her shoulder. She looked cute, she had a t-shirt on, tied at her waist, only showing the tiniest bit of skin over a flowy skirt below. No shoes, no jewelry, just a pin in her hair keeping it out of her face. Up close he could tell she was wearing a little makeup, no perfume, but she smelled fantastic. Just her shampoo, her lotion…her. He’d only ever seen her in workout clothes, and she looked great in those, but this was a welcome change of pace. “You look nice,” he said, feeling the enormity of the understatement.

“You’re just surprised to see me in real clothes!” she guessed correctly, and bumped her shoulder back into his chest. “I could just as easily say ‘you smell nice’ because you’re not all sweaty!”

“I do smell nice, thank you for noticing! I just meant…I hadn’t really pictured you as a skirt kind of girl.”

She turned off the faucet, dried her hands, and turned on the spot to face him. “Oh? And what did you picture?”

He considered her for a second. “I guess mostly t-shirts and jeans. Comfortable stuff.”

“See, this is why women are the smarter sex. Jeans aren’t really that comfortable. I mean, they’re better than slacks, sure. But you know what is always more comfortable than jeans?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, “No pants at all.” With that point, she turned and gave her skirt a little shake, then went back to her work on dinner, instructing him on what he could do next.

She got the burgers and tots going, he cut up some of the toppings and took the condiments out of the fridge, getting things set up at the table. He kept using any excuse to brush by her, not getting handsy or anything, just making his presence known. She wasn’t dumb, she knew the game he was playing, but she wasn’t going to back down. Either from his flirting, or from her no-dating policy.

“Okay, just gotta toast the buns and we’re ready. Hand me the butter?”

He looked around, confused, “Nothing here looks like butter. Is it in the fridge?”

“No, the little copper & glass thing.”

“This is some fancy butter! How did you get it all in there?”

“I mean, you could soften a stick and put it in. But this is homemade!”

He laughed, “How do you even make butter?”

“It’s basically just if you fucked up making whipped cream, and you put in a little salt instead of sugar, and let it mix too long.”

“Huh. Well aren’t you full of surprises!”

“I’m domestic as fuck! Didn’t Chris tell you?”

“Did you cook for Chris too?” he tried to keep the jealous edge out of his voice.

“He came by the day after that game I met you at. We hung out all day, went on a hike, hit up a farmer’s market, and made dinner together. I even showed him how to make butter. He didn’t mention it?”

“Nope, didn’t come up. I think he wanted you all to himself.”

“Nah, he had a girlfriend. And we’re just friends,” she insisted.

He was pretty doubtful that Chris wasn’t playing any games, but he wasn’t going to say anything. If they were friends, they were friends, and he didn’t need to be a dick about it, it would only make him look bad. “Well, we are both lucky men to have a friend like you. And I will die if I don’t eat this amazing food now. Don’t make me go out like that, Shyla!”

“Okay, go get a drink and sit. There’s beer in the fridge, I didn’t know what you like.”

“You’re the bessst!”

He grabbed two bottles, and she joined him at the table with the buns and meat, and they got down to it. He was moaning from the first bite, eyes rolling back into his head, “Oh Shyla…”

“Stop, you drama queen!”

“No, seriously, I’m going to cry! This is the best burger I’ve ever had.”

“That’s the cheat day talking.”

“How is it no man has locked you down? Seriously, I’d marry you right now, I’ll give you whatever you want as long as you periodically make me dinner.”

“Well, not to be a downer, but a man did lock this down.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were divorced.”

“Widowed, actually.”

He dropped his burger on his plate, and his eyes got huge. He reached out for her, he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and hold her, “Oh, Shyla, I’m so sorry, I…”

She stayed put, not accepting his proffered comfort. “It’s okay, Seb. It was a couple years ago. I’m not going to break. I’m okay.” She took another bite of her burger to prove the point.

He waited a long beat, before summoning the nerve to ask, “Is that why you’re not dating?”

“No, not directly. I do just want to focus on work. And that is partly because when he died…everything changed. I sold my house, I quit my whole career, I moved to a whole ‘nother city. It was what I needed to do. And I made a new life for myself. And I can’t risk that. I can’t start all over again if this doesn’t work out.”

He nodded, “That makes total sense. Fuck you’re just so…”

“Don’t you dare say brave, I swear,” she cut him off firmly. “I just survived, I didn’t do anything special. I don’t need praise for that. These tots, though, you’re welcome to praise me for.”

He did, in extravagant terms. They spent the rest of the evening eating, talking, and drinking. Now that Seb knew the big secret, Shyla felt a lot more at ease. For his part, he did a good job not looking at her with those pitying eyes that she hated more than anything. And, while he kept up the flirting, he only ever brushed against her boundaries, never pushed against them. And he was so, so sexy. God, she could watch his lips all day, they were mesmerizing. And his eyes…but, she wasn’t going to do this to herself. So she kept asking him questions, urging him to talk about himself, and tried not to think ahead about when exactly in the filming process it would be safe to kiss him without risking her performance.

And he hadn’t realized the trouble he was getting himself into, until they moved to the couch. They were just sitting and talking, she wasn’t even sitting close to him. But seeing her facing him on the couch, bare feet tucked up under her, her hair falling around her shoulders after she unpinned it, face a little flushed from the beers, it was incredibly difficult not to close the distance and pin her to the couch. Watching her toss her head back when she laughed at one of his jokes was leaving him giddy, and when she leaned forward in interest at some story he told, or tilted her head to ask him questions, he felt positively drunk in a way that had nothing to do with beer. And when she moved, and he could see a little flash of skin under the hem of her shirt, or a bit of thigh when her skirt rode up, all he wanted to do was kiss every inch of her skin.

But they just talked. Eventually she got the dessert out, and they both ate until they thought they would explode. Neither of them acknowledging that it was the easiest strategy to avoid trying to jump the other. Seb helped clear the dishes and get everything clean, and then dragged himself to the door. “This has been a truly wonderful evening. I’m not telling anyone else what a good cook you are, so I can keep you for myself.”

“I’m always down for a dinner party, but I think the Russos would fire me if I get a reputation as the friendly neighborhood carb dealer.”

“I wouldn’t dare narc on my own supplier.”

“I had a lot of fun tonight, Seb. Thanks,” she smiled up at him.

Everything in his being wanted to kiss her right now. The whole evening had felt like a date, and this was the part of the date where they would share an amazing first kiss. But he just pulled her in for a hug, tried to satisfy himself with holding her in his arms as a friend, even if he was also very consciously taking in the smell of her hair and the feel of her body against his. It made him even crazier knowing that she had to be feeling the same way, and wanting the same thing, but that she was showing restraint. So he forced himself to match her control, and just thanked her again, and walked out the door and down the hall to his own apartment.


	9. Chris is here!

She heard a key in a lock that sounded like it must have been across the hall from hers, so she whipped the door open and, as soon as she assessed that it was indeed Chris, barely waited for him to turn around before leaping on him with a hug. If she’d had a running start, she would have tackled him, but she made do.

His somewhat grumpy mood from traveling instantly evaporated. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her squealing off the ground, easily carrying her into his apartment. “So ya missed me, huh?”

“Don’t be dumb, of course I missed you! I’m still a little mad at you for abandoning me in Atlanta for two weeks, but Seb has taken me under his wing.”

“Oh really? Should I be jealous?”

“Hey, you could’ve gotten here earlier than this if you wanted to!”

“Well, I’m glad I’m here now.” He finally let her feet touch the ground, but he didn’t let go just yet. He hadn’t been sure what he should do until the moment she jumped on him, but now he was certain: he wanted her. He’d always wanted her, but there was always something in the way before. But now...

With her smiling face tilted up to his, he was about to lean down and kiss her, when he heard a voice at the door. “Hope I’m not interrupting…” Seb called from the door.

“Chris is here! The party’s really gettin’ started!” Shyla gave Chris another squeeze before backing out of his arms.

But Seb knew what he saw. Chris wasn’t just greeting a friend. “Hey man, good to see ya!” Seb said as they shared a bro-hug.

Chris, completely unaware of how things had been between Shyla and Seb, was just excited to see his friends. “So, what have you two been up to?”

“Training, working on our fight,” Shyla shrugged. Chris wanted to wrap her in his arms again, but he couldn’t exactly deliver a romantic “I’m crazy about you” monologue with Seb right there.

“You didn’t tell me Shyla was such an amazing cook!” Seb said somewhat boastingly.

They all chatted for a while, and when the conversation wound down, Shyla offered “Well, we should probably let you get settled. Do you need help unpacking or anything? I was maybe going to run some errands in a bit here, can I grab you anything?”

“You’re too good to me, Shyla,” Chris said. “That’s a kind offer, I don’t know that I need any help. Unless you want to help me shower, which is what I really need to do next.” She rolled her eyes, and he laughed, “Wanna hang out later? Doesn’t have to be in the shower.”

Seb inserted himself, “We could watch a movie or something?”

“That would be great! Text me when you’re ready, Chris! Or, I guess, you know where to find me! This is so fun!” she squealed and ushered Seb out the door.

Shyla was surprised to hear a knock just a few minutes after closing her door. She saw Chris through the peephole, and opened the door quickly, a little worried. “Is something wrong? I thought you wanted a shower?”

“I do, but I needed to talk to you first. Can I come in?”

“Of course,” she stepped aside, shutting her door behind him. But he didn’t walk further into her apartment, he stopped just behind her. She turned and almost ran into him, “Chris you’re kind of freaking me out, what’s up?”

He looked down into her gray eyes, looked at her pink lips, and kissed her. It was as if the electricity between them crackled as their lips met. She was rigid for a moment but relaxed into the kiss. But when he slid his hand to the back of her head, his other moving to her waist, she pulled away. He smiled at her, watch her reach a hand to her own lips in what looked like disbelief. “I’m sorry, Shyla, I just…I’m crazy about you. I’d been wanting to do that since we met, things just kept getting in the way. But now we’re here together, I thought…” he intentionally trailed off. He’d expected her to be smiling up at him. After all the late night talks they’d shared, there was such a strong connection between them, he knew she felt it too. She had to. But her face…

“Chris, I’m so sorry,” she started, and he could barely keep his attention together enough to hear the rest. “I really, really like you, too. God, I wish you _had_ kissed me the day we met. Or…any time before I got to Atlanta.”

“Is it someone else? Is it Sebastian?”

“No! No no no no no! Not really? I just told myself I wasn’t going to date anyone while filming. I can’t afford to mess this up.” The look on his face just crushed her. “Chris, I really don’t want to say no, but I can’t let myself say yes.”

“What do you mean ‘not really’?” he asked. She just looked at him, confused. “I asked if it was Sebastian, you said ‘not really,’ what does that mean?”

He was surprised to see a flame of anger light in her eyes. “I’m not dating Sebastian. You can ask him. Although, frankly, it’s none of your business if I am. You’ve known me for over a year now, and only now you decide to make a move, and act jealous?” Chris looked like he was going to say something, but she continued, “No, let me finish. We’ve been friends, even best friends, as far as I knew. But that doesn’t give you the right to suddenly decide to change the nature of that friendship. Not without consulting me. And right now, I can’t be dating anyone. If you can’t be okay with being friends, I’ll give you space.”

He was silent for a long minute. It was a lot to process, to finally realize you’re in love with your best friend and then have her reject you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung this on you.”

She could see the hurt in his eyes, and she hated herself for it. Her face softened from anger to sadness, “No, don’t be sorry. I mean, maybe be a little sorry you waited.” A grin lightly touched the corners of her mouth, and she reached up to hold his cheek. “But…can you wait a little longer? I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just need to focus on this. So much has changed so fast, my head is already spinning. I can’t handle a relationship right now, it wouldn’t be fair to either of us. And I really need a friend.”

He put his hand on hers, and said, “I can wait. And I hope to still be your friend in the meantime, if you’re willing to put up with me.”

“Can we hug now? Because I kind of want to cry.”

He wordlessly wrapped her in his arms, and made soothing noises. She wasn’t kidding, he could tell from the hitches in her breathing she was fighting back tears. His own hurt was overshadowed by seeing her in pain. “Hey, hey now. It’s okay. You’re okay. Let’s move to the couch.”

She did as instructed, while swiping at tears with the heel of her palm, “see, I’m a complete mess.”

“Not at all, you’re at best 50% mess, nowhere near complete!” he tried humor to make her feel better. It worked, she at least cracked a little smile. “Okay, what’s up?”

“I just…I feel so stupid. And kind of alone.”

“You’re not alone! The whole cast will love you!”

“It’s not that. I just…I had a hard time making friends in LA. It was so great to meet you, we had such a great connection from the beginning. It’s so scary to think how things could change if things turned romantic. And I’m not really used to this whole ‘dating coworkers’ thing. I know it’s no big deal, but when Seb asked me out…”

“He WHAT?”

“Oh, Chris, please don’t. I can’t handle that. He asked me out, and I told him the same thing I told you: that I’m not dating right now. So we’re just friends. But now both of you have me stressed that guys just don’t actually want to be my friend. If you’re just waiting in line to fuck me the second I let my defenses down…”

“No. That’s not what is happening. We are both very lucky to have you in our lives as a friend. And if that’s all it ever is, that’s perfectly wonderful.”

She looked at him skeptically. “So if I decided ‘you know what, I’m actually just not interested in either of you romantically,’ we’d just stay friends and you’d both be fine with that, while I date other dudes? Or if I decided that I wanted to get with Seb, you’d be perfectly content to just sit back and be happy for me, or listen to me complain if things aren’t going well?”

“Is that what’s going to happen?”

“I don’t know, anything is possible.”

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you, both of those situations would be hard as hell. But I do think that ultimately, it’s more important to me that you’re in my life than that we’re romantically involved.”

She watched his face, then gave him a sad little smile. She wanted to hug him, but thought better of it. She’d just rejected him, difficult though it was, so it seemed like too much to ask of him to completely shove aside all his feelings in favor of hers. “Thank you, Chris. It means more than I can say. I should back out on the movie tonight. You & Seb can commiserate over how cold-hearted I am.”

“No, we wouldn’t do that. You should still come!”

“Well, I’ll give you a head start. Get that shower, get settled, hang out a bit with Seb. I’ll be by later.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want. But don’t blame me if you hate the movie we pick.”

“Just no war movies, I’ll fall asleep.”

“Hey, no promises!”

When Seb let himself into Chris’ apartment, he was a little surprised Shyla wasn’t already there. “Hey man, did Shyla get lost crossing the hall?”

“She’ll be over in a bit. So…you asked her out?” Chris got right to the point.

Seb’s eyebrows flew up, and he stood in shocked silence for a moment. “Yeah, I did.”

“She told me she’s not dating right now.”

“Did you ask her out, too?”

There was a pause before he confessed, “Yeah. And she shut me down, too.”

Seb felt some tension release from his shoulders. “Got anything to drink?”

Chris chuckled, sloshed some whiskey in another glass and passed it to Seb, “She’s really something else, huh?” Seb just smiled in agreement, and tossed back a mouthful of whiskey. “Did she tell you she’s a widow?”

“Yeah. Shit, man. Is this all really about her career, or is it about that?”

“I think it is mostly about her career. She’s been dating on and off for a while now, but it’s been going really badly, so I can’t blame her for wanting to take a break.”

“Timing sucks for us, though,” Seb said, and Chris clinked his glass. “So, where do we go from here?”

“Respect her wishes. And then see what happens when we wrap.”

They shared another glass of whiskey, and found a movie to watch. They went with a horror movie, and a few minutes in heard a knock and the door open. “Should I leave you two to bro-time or am I still welcome?” Shyla peeked her head around the door and asked.

“Come on in!” Chris called. “You said no war movies, is horror ok?”

“Two questions: What kind of horror are we talking? And is there a blanket I can hide under?” she walked over and plopped in between them on the couch, pulling up her legs and crossing them under her. Her eyes were puffy and red, clearly from crying. Seb bumped her with his shoulder, and Chris did the same. Then Seb wrapped his arms across her in a hug, pinning her arms, and Chris attacked her from the other side, doing the same. She sniffled a little, and put her hands on their cheeks, holding them to her and giving each a little kiss on the head. She whispered, “You two are the best,” and just held them and was held by them for a while. When they felt a little hitch like she might be crying again, they squeezed her even tighter, and she let out a little grunt and a laugh, “You’re crushing me! Okay, lemme go! What are we watching?”

“Here, I’ll rewind it so you can catch the beginning,” Chris picked up the remote.

“Okay, I wasn’t joking about wanting something to hide behind, either toss me one of those pillows or I’ll get one from the bedroom,” she insisted. Seb passed her a throw pillow.

“Aw, are you a scaredy cat?” Chris teased.

“Being scared is the point! It’s a scary movie!” she defended herself, hitting Chris with the pillow.

“Don’t worry, we’ll protect you,” Seb consoled her.

They watched through the movie and, true to her word, Shyla hid behind the pillow for the scary parts. At one point Seb tried to hide behind it too, it turned into a bit of a wrestling match for it, they landed, laughing, face-to-face trying to share its limited safety. As soon as the scary part was over, Chris threatened to tickle her if she didn’t get out from hiding.

Seb’s face lit up, and he immediately popped out from behind the pillow, “You’re ticklish? How have you hidden that from me?”

“Oh yeah, she’s ticklish as hell!” Chris confirmed her terrible secret.

“I also fight dirty, and will have no compunction about kicking, scratching, or biting, if you try it right now! My adrenaline is pumping from the movie, so don’t you dare test me!”

Chris and Seb made eye contact over her head. They’d just gotten past the climactic scary scene, the movie was wrapping up. The second the credits started they lunged, pinning her to the couch and tickling her. She wasn’t joking, she thrashed and kicked, she probably would have bit them if they got close enough to her mouth. She squealed and laughed, but when she cried out “Stop!” they let her go and collapsed in a heap. She managed a “You guys are assholes,” between heaving breaths.


	10. Surprises

“I think we’re about ready to kick up the pace again, can we do it with the music?” Shyla asked Seb. They’d been rehearsing their fight for weeks, and it was almost ready to go.

“If you insist, I think this song makes me too wooden.”

“Well, you are supposed to be brainwashed. Just give me a couple of tries with the music, then we’ll do it at speed without.”

“Excuse me, Ms Riddle?” an assistant approached them. “You have a visitor.”

Shyla turned and her jaw almost hit the floor. “Henry, hi!” she went over to give him a hug. She thanked the admin, and continued, “Sorry I’m all sweaty and gross!”

“Mmm, I like it, so no need to apologize,” he whispered in her ear, before giving her a big kiss.

When he finally released her, she stumbled back, “Oh, pardon my rudeness, Henry, this is Sebastian. Sebastian, this is Henry.” She stepped back so the two men could shake hands. Henry was jovial, but Seb’s expression told Shyla he was definitely not happy. “So, what are you doing here? And why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, I had to come to New York for a few meetings, so while I was in the States I thought I’d pop by and surprise you!”

“That’s so…thoughtful! How long will you be in town?”

“Well, I suppose that depends on you…can I crash at yours?” he moved close and put a hand on her hip.

She could see Seb’s expression darken. “Um, sure! Hey, Sebastian and I need to get back to work, are you going to stick around?”

“Do you mind if I watch you fight?”

“Sure, if you want. But don’t be too critical, this is the first time I’m trying it at full speed.”

“Do I get to see the mysterious move you stole from me?”

“Actually, yes! But it’s small, so pay close attention.”

“Oh, I will.”

Henry went further to the side, to give them space to do their scene. Shyla walked over to Seb, who had turned away. She put a hand on his shoulder, and he shook it off. “I thought you weren’t dating.”

“I’m not, he just…”

“Fine, whatever. Let’s just do this.”

“Okay, I’ll start the music.” She queued up the song, and hit play. They went through the sequence, and it went pretty well despite Seb’s poor mood. After they’d finished, she wanted to hug Seb in celebration, but he turned away to get some water.

Henry rushed over and scooped her up in his arms, “Shyla, that was brilliant!” he declared, swinging her through the air.

“Thanks! It’s not my biggest fight sequence, but it’s a good one! Did you see the move?”

“I was watching so closely, but I couldn’t tell what it was! Every move seemed very natural for you, it didn’t seem like you stole anything!”

“Okay, put me down, I’ll show you.” He placed her on the ground, and she backed up. She took her starting stance, and did a move where she punched both of her fists towards the ground to loosen her arms up. Then she resumed a normal posture and shrugged. “That was it!”

“ _That_ was it? The arm reloading thing?” he laughed. “Well, the move looks better on you.” He gave her another kiss, but she pulled away before he could deepen it.

“Well, you don’t want to sit here watching me practice. And I imagine you’d like some time to decompress after your flight. Here,” she went to her bag and pulled out her keys. She took the key to the apartment off the ring and handed it to him. “I’ll text you the info on where my place is, and how to get in. Make yourself at home, and I’ll let you know when I’m done here.”

He kissed her again, and then left. She went to find Sebastian. She saw him duck around a corner, but she wasn’t going to let him go that easily. She chased him down, finally cornering him in a hall with empty offices. “Seb, I…”

“Look, if you just weren’t interested in me, you could have said so. You didn’t need to do the whole ‘not dating’ song and dance.”

“It wasn’t a song and dance. Hey!” she grabbed his arm and spun him toward her. “At least look at me. I had no intention of dating while filming. Henry and I had a thing a few months ago, but we kind of ghosted each other. I didn’t expect to see him again, and I certainly didn’t expect him to just show up.”

He looked at her, and she took his hand. “This just sucks,” he admitted.

“Look, I’m not saying you don’t have a right to feel your feelings. But you don’t get to be possessive. If you can’t handle just being friends...”

“No, I just…” he took a deep breath. “I love being your friend. It’s just rough being reminded of the whole rejection thing.”

“I don’t think it’s entirely fair to say I rejected you, but whatever, I’ll let you have it. And I’ll keep Henry out of your face, frankly I’m not jazzed about surprises.”

He studied her face for a second. Suddenly, he pulled her in for a kiss. Her body tensed for a moment, but she melted into him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He deepened the kiss, folding her into his arms, pressing her into him, but then suddenly stopped. “Not jazzed about surprises, eh?” he asked.

She backed away from him, putting a hand to her mouth. “It’s not really a surprise when it’s a long time coming. But Seb…”

“Look, I get it. I just had to know. I will back off.” He smiled down at her for a second, then turned and walked away. He turned to check her out one more time, biting his lip a little, before turning the corner and heading back to the gym area.

Shyla knew there were worse problems to have. But considering she was trying to avoid distractions right now, it seemed like it would be easier if she’d just given up and started dating Seb in the first place. At least then it would be one distraction instead of three.


	11. Plans and Prep

Chris needed to talk to Shyla. They were going to start filming soon, and their kiss scene was one of the first things on the schedule. They had rehearsed the sparring leading up to it, but not the kiss itself, and with everything going on between them, he wanted to make sure she was okay with it. He hadn’t gone into the gym today, saying he was going to stay home and work on lines. When he heard her door open, he was surprised to hear her home so early, but gave her a little space. After she would have had time to shower and settle back in, he went across the hall and knocked on her door.

When the door opened, and it was Henry, standing there shirtless. Well, shit. “Henry? What are you doing here?” They shook hands, Henry looking a little surprised as well.

“I just came to visit Shyla before filming started. What brings you to her flat?”

“There was just something I needed to talk to her about. Just a scene we needed to discuss. I didn’t know you & her were…” he trailed off.

“Yeah, we started seeing each other after you gave me her number. Here, come in, let me find a shirt,” he offered, stepping back. He disappeared into Shyla’s bedroom, and reappeared pulling a t-shirt over his head.

“So…you’ve been with Shyla for a few months now, that seems serious.” Chris knew he was fishing, but this didn’t make sense.

“Well, we’ve both been busy. But she spent some time in London after her Frozen press tour, and I spent some time in LA after the Oscars.”

“Huh, I remember seeing you two at the Oscars, I didn’t realize you were an item,” Chris said. Really, he knew they at least weren’t publicly an item. They hadn’t acted like it, there hadn’t been any gossip about it, and Shyla hadn’t said anything before or after.

“Well, we haven’t been public. Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure,” Chris said, not sure he wanted to.

“That’s sort of why I’m visiting. We’ve been very casual up until now, but I wanted a bit more.”

“Are you proposing to her?” Chris was floored.

“No, not yet. I was just going to talk to her about having a real relationship.”

Chris worked hard to unclench his jaw, “Wow, man, that’s…congrats!”

“Well, congratulations aren’t in order at present, as I haven’t spoken to her yet. But hopefully this weekend…”

“Good luck, then.” Chris considered telling him that Shyla had vowed she wouldn’t date anyone while filming, but that would only raise uncomfortable questions. “How long are you planning on sticking around for?”

“Depends on if she’ll have me. I’ve got some meetings in New York next week, but if things go well I’ll come back after. If not…back to London.”

“Well cool!” Chris tried to look enthusiastic. He was trying to think of something to say. Henry seemed like a good guy. And he’d hoped for the best for them when he’d passed along Shyla’s contact info. She had mentioned that they met up, and she’d bought him that dinner, but aside from seeming friendly at the Oscars, she had never so much as mentioned him after that. Why?

When he was about to make his excuses, he heard the door open. “Henry?” Shyla called. “Oh, Chris, hey!”

“Hey, babe, Chris came over looking for you.” Henry’s face lit up when she came in, and he went over to grab her.

“I’m all sweaty!” she squealed her objection. He put her down, and she turned to Chris, “What’s up, Chris, did you need something?”

He’d been avoiding watching their affections, but looked up at his name. “Oh, yeah, but it can wait, if you want to get some time with Henry.”

“I can give you a moment, babe. I’ll go unpack.” He kissed her on the forehead and walked back to her bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“Okay, I’m all yours. What’s up?” she asked, sitting next to Chris on the couch.

He tried not to wince at her phrasing. “I didn’t know that you two kept seeing each other,” Chris said quietly.

“Oh, Chris, we haven’t really. Just a little, and not in a while.”

“It’s okay. I just…well, it’s my own fault, he wouldn’t have asked you out if I hadn’t given him your number.”

“Chris, I…”

“Hey, I’m not mad. I get it. Henry’s a great guy.”

“But I meant it when I said I didn’t want to date anyone right now,” she explained. “I hadn’t heard anything from Henry in a while, I figured he was ghosting me. And I wasn’t getting in touch with him either.” He looked up at her, a little sadly. She squeezed his hand a little, and tried changing the subject, “Hey, I doubt this is what you came over to talk about. What’s up?”

He shook off his thoughts about Shyla and Henry. “I wanted to talk about our sparring scene. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

“Yeah, it feels like the choreo has come together. And my costume for that fight is the easiest to move in. Was there something you’re worried about?”

“I’m not worried about the fight, you’re doing great. It was the kiss I was concerned about. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it.”

“Chris, you’re the sweetest! Yes, I think it’ll be fine. I know it’s not your first on-screen kiss, you know what you’re doing. And you won’t make it too…I don’t know, embarrassing for me in my ignorance.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it easier on you?”

“I don’t think so. The Russos said they’d keep the people on-set down to a minimum for that part. And I’m not getting naked for it. And I trust you. I feel very safe.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and hugged him, as Henry came out of the bedroom.

“Hey now, what’s been going on here?” Henry asked in a jovial if somewhat suspicious tone.

“Just talking through a scene, Henry,” she reassured him, sitting back on the couch.

“Well that’s fine then. So, what do the Avengers get up to after hours?”

“Usually Sebastian & Chris try to convince me to cook for them. But most weekends I’m very boring, just a lot of reading & relaxing.”

“Well I think we can get up to some mischief!” Henry ventured. “Chris, did you have any plans this weekend?”

“Other than hoping for a homemade meal for a cheat day, not particularly.”

Henry eyed her up and down, “I didn’t realize you were such a legendary cook, Shyla!”

“I am a woman of many talents!” she reminded him.

“Indeed you are,” he snaked a hand around her waist.

“Well, I’m also super gross. I’m going to hit the shower.”

“Do you want company?”

“Cheeky! No, I just want to get the sweat off and change, I’ll just be a minute. Chris, you’re welcome to stay! I didn’t have a meal planned for tonight, but maybe we can all go out for dinner?”

“I can leave the two of you, have a good evening. Henry, good to see ya man,” he shook Henry’s hand again, and made his exit.

Before the door had even shut, Henry said “Well, now that we’re alone…” as he drew her in and started kissing her neck.

“I wasn’t kidding about that shower, you know.”

“What if I drew you a bath instead?”

“Mmm, that sounds heavenly. Did you have thoughts on dinner?”

“Well, while you have a soak I can order some delivery.”

“Perfection! What did I do to deserve this?”

“You’re _you_ ,” he said, brushing her hair from her face. “Besides, I know how it feels to get through another week of training and fighting. And you were really impressive in there today.”

“Thanks Henry, that means a lot.” They snuggled up on the couch and ordered delivery, then he picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. He tossed her on the bed and went to fill the tub. This was all so…domestic. When they’d spent time together before, it was mostly in hotel rooms, and even then it wasn’t exactly a full-time thing, it was pretty much just sex. Which was fine, she’d been coming off a press tour, then it was awards season, and she had already been training hard for this part. They’d gotten along well, and the sex was fantastic, but she didn’t feel the need for anything more than that. He hadn’t seemed to, either. And yet, here he was, suddenly coming to stay with her?

She stripped down and walked to the bathroom, leaning against the doorjamb. She just watched the broad expanse of his shoulders as he got the tub ready. He’d obviously looked through her supplies, she could see some bubbles growing in there and the room was filling with floral smells from her Epsom salts. Watching his muscles play under his shirt was making the bath seem a little less appealing.

Eventually, he noticed her, and pulled her over to him. Kneeling in front of her, he held her hips and kissed her stomach as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Mmm…is the tub going to get cold?”

“No, just a promise of what’s to come. Pop in.” He swatted her lightly on the behind. She stepped in the tub, and lowered herself into the water, sighing in relief. He leaned against the rim of the tub, watching her. “Is there anything else I could get you, a glass of wine or anything?”

“If this gets any more perfect, I’m going to start to worry this is a setup.”

“Mmm, and what do you fear I’m setting you up for?” he moved a hand to stroke her arm.

“I haven’t figured it out yet, the bath is relaxing me so much I can’t think.”

“Excellent, it’s all part of my evil plan.”

Her eyes were closed, but she still quirked an eyebrow at him, “Well, I’m pretty much defenseless at this point. Work your evil.”

He didn’t say anything, but she felt his hand at her knee, then sliding along her thigh, under the water line. The tips of his fingers traced lazy circles, periodically sending shivers through her. Despite the slow pace he’d taken, when he met the juncture of her thighs, he wasted no time, moving a finger into her slit. She gasped and smiled, and he claimed her mouth in a kiss. She gripped the side of the tub, his arm, the back of his head, anywhere she could reach. She writhed under his ministrations, and when she couldn’t focus on kissing anymore, he held his face just above her and watched her fall apart. He could feel the marks she’d left on his arm with her fingernails, but it was worth it to see that sight.

When the last wave washed over her, and she relaxed back into the tub with a contented sigh. “What was that for?”

“Again: it’s just because you’re you. Enjoy the rest of the bath, I’m going to dry off a little and wait for delivery. Let me know if you need anything.” She just smiled up at him, and he kissed her sweetly.

What…was happening? It wasn’t that Henry hadn’t been giving before, but it was part of foreplay, or at least with some assumption of reciprocation. But he just made her come and walked away. She couldn’t think about it too hard at the moment though, between the warm water and the sex-brain she just tried to focus on stretching and massaging some of her sore muscles.

When she heard Henry thank the delivery person, she mustered up the motivation to pull herself out of the tub and start drying off. She pinned her hair up and threw on an oversized tee and some pajama shorts. What it lacked in raw sex appeal, it made up for in a total lack of a bra.

He was still rummaging through her drawers and cabinets to find eating tools, and she padded up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you, for…all of that. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a while.”

He held her hands to his chest, “You are most welcome, it was my pleasure.” He lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed the palm.

“Whatcha looking for, let me help,” she insisted, moving around him.

“Just plates, I found the utensils and serve ware.”

“Right here,” she opened a cabinet. “What would you like to drink? I’m afraid I don’t have wine on hand, but I’ve got beer, sparkling water…some whiskey if you want to dive right in.”

“I hadn’t noticed you weren’t a wine fan.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, red wine just gives me heartburn and headaches. But I do like a sweet white, just not enough to keep it on hand. I can grab some tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” They served themselves from the takeout containers, and sat at the table.

“So,” Shyla started, “not that I’m not enjoying your visit thus far, but what’s with the surprise?”

“It can’t be because I enjoy your company?”

“If I were actually in the city you needed to go to, then yes, that makes total sense. But New York is like a thousand miles away. I don’t know if you’re aware, English, but America is a big country.”

“Well, I just…I missed you.” He took her hand in his. “I like you a lot, Shyla. I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together, and I was wondering what it would be like to…spend more time together. Maybe do more than just casually see each other, really make a go of it.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “Henry, I…I’ve enjoyed our time together, too. But I don’t know if I can be in a relationship right now.”

“Is there somebody else?”

“No, it’s not like that. I just really want to focus on the movie right now. Filming starts next week, I don’t want distractions. And I would be such a shitty girlfriend right now, by the time I’m done with work, I’m too exhausted to even take care of myself, much less be any good to you.”

“Then let me take care of you, Shyla.”

“I can’t, Henry. I would feel like shit knowing that I wasn’t giving what I take, it’s not fair to you.”

“I wouldn’t be keeping tally, Shyla. And this movie would end, then I’d need to go film, and I’d be in your shoes, it would all balance out.”

“Henry, this is my first real film. Cartoons are different. I just want to focus on it. I don’t want any distractions. I can’t fuck this up.”

He was silent for a moment, wishing he’d thought this all the way through. “Give me this weekend.”

“What?”

“Just give me the weekend. I’ll prove that I’m not a distraction, I’ll even make life a little easier. If, when I leave next week, you still feel the same, I’ll leave you alone. Just give me a chance, please Shyla.” He looked at her pleadingly, not prepared to lose her just yet.

She sighed heavily. “Okay, that’s fair. You have the weekend.”

His face lit up in excitement, “Excellent! I promise you won’t regret this!” He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her solidly, until she was breathless.

“Okay, now let me eat, I’m starving!” she swatted him playfully, and he slid her back onto his chair.

When they finished dinner, he insisted on cleaning up. “Well, if you’re sucking up, this is a good start.”

“That is exactly what I’m doing, so I’m glad to know it’s working,” he kissed her again and patted her on the ass to shoo her away. She went to the couch to pull out her phone. There was already a message from Seb, asking if she was too busy with her boyfriend for their usual cheat day. She replied, insisting that she was not, just that it would have to be Saturday or Sunday. He and Chris unanimously decided on Saturday, so they would have time to work it off before filming. She got another message from Seb, pointing out that she hadn’t denied Henry was her boyfriend. She left him on read.

When Henry finished the dishes, he came over to the couch and pulled her feet into his lap, giving them a massage. “Wow, I really am getting the full treatment, huh? So, Henry, what would you like to do this weekend?”

“I want to do whatever you want to do! We can do as much or as little as you want.”

“So if I just want to spend the whole weekend sleeping and reading, that’s fine.”

“Your wish is my command!”

“Hmmm, okay. Well, usually on Friday I cook with the boys. Saturday I either do less than nothing or see some sites, depending on how I’m feeling. And Sunday I do my shopping, laundry, get ready for the week, read a lot. But obviously this weekend is a little different.”

“And ‘the boys’ are…?”

“Chris and Sebastian, who you met earlier.”

“Ah, yes, Sebastian. And why are they _your_ boys?”

“They aren’t mine, they’re just the other cast members I hang out with. Most of the rest of Team Cap is married with kids, or at least not interested in having a cheat day.”

“So it’s a food thing?”

“It’s a friend thing, calm down, tiger. They’re going to come by tomorrow, we’ll all cook. You already know Chris, and you’ll like Seb, he’s a good guy.”

“He’s ‘Seb’ now?”

“Jealousy is not a good look on you, Cavill.”

“Okay, I’ll give Seb a chance.”


	12. Sharing a Meal

“Thanks for putting up with the delay of game! I think it’s going to be well worth it,” Shyla insisted as she ushered Chris and Seb into her apartment.

“She’s spent all day preparing, this is going to be one helluva cheat day for you boys!” Henry added, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Shyla’s an amazing cook, we’re lucky dudes,” Chris said. “Need any help, Shy?”

“Oh, are we ‘Shy’ now?” Henry asked her.

“No, _we’re_ not. There are like 2 people in the world who can get away with calling me ‘Shy’ and one of them is my mom. Besides, it sounds weird with your accent.”

“I don’t know,” Henry tested the waters, “I quite like ‘Shy.’ Shy, Shy, Shy…you’re right, it does sound weird when I say it. Hardly fair, I thought American women thought everything was more charming from the lips of an Englishman.”

“Well then you’re lucky you’re cute, because it doesn’t actually work like that,” she said, patting him on the cheek. “To answer your question, Chris, I need help finishing setting the table, the bread needs to come out of the oven, and the pie should go in.”

“On it!” Seb and Chris chimed together, and got to action. Shyla joined them in finishing all the small tasks to finish bringing the meal together, and Henry stood at loose ends.

When everything was set, they all settled in. “You’ve done it again!” Seb said, as they dug in, passing the dishes around. Shyla did her best to keep the conversation going. Henry was constantly touching her, which made Sebastian sulk and Chris just tried to distract himself from it, asking Henry questions, but Henry kept trying to turn everything back to Shyla. It wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped.

At one point, she got up to refill her drink, and Henry grabbed her butt a little when she got up. Seb rolled his eyes hard, dropping his fork on his plate. Henry looked back at Seb, who was giving him a bit of a death stare.

“Seb, don’t, man,” Chris tried to calm his friend.

“What seems to be the problem?” Henry asked.

“We get it, dude. She’s your girlfriend. You don’t have to have your paws all over her to prove it.”

“Excuse me?” Henry responded.

Chris tried to calm them all down, “Seb, go for a walk. Henry, he didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I think he did. Both of you are jealous.”

“Look, man, we just want to look out for Shyla. With her late husband and all…”

“Bullshit, you are just mad that I got her first,” Henry said, standing.

All three of them were standing now, shouting at each other. But they all heard the door slam behind Shyla as she left. All three men ran after her, they saw her get on the elevator, but the door closed just before Seb and Henry made it. Chris was already sprinting down the stairs, he got to her just as she was approaching the front doors. He jogged over to catch up with her, but just followed her out the door.

“I’m lucky you’ve got short legs,” he pointed out. “Pretty easy to catch when you run off.”

“Fuck off, Chris.”

“Come on, now. I don’t deserve that.”

“You all do,” she angrily insisted. “Seb & Henry more than you, but still, all of you should fuck off.”

“True. But I’m not going to let you run off into the night by yourself. And Seb and Henry will catch up any moment.”

“Well then they, too, shall be told to fuck off.” Sure enough, she could hear the pounding of 4 feet on the sidewalk, and then was overtaken by their apologies and explanations. She whirled around and shouted “NO. Both of you: fuck off. You don’t get to act like you did.” Seb looked like he was going to say something, but Shyla pre-empted him, “I told Chris to fuck off too, it was just before you got here.”

Henry stepped forward, moving to touch her arm, “Babe, I don’t think…”

“Stop it, Henry. You were treating me like a piece of property back there. You were marking your territory. And that fucking sucks: I’m not property.”

She could see Seb smirk, and she stepped towards him, “Don’t you fuckin’ smile, Sebastian. You don’t get to come into my home, eat my food, and then act like that. You were acting like I was property to be fought over just as much as Henry was. What makes you think you’re any better?”

Last she turned to Chris, with tears brimming her eyes. “And you…I thought you would know better.” She took a quick glance at traffic and sprinted across the street. Chris jogged after her, and shortly Seb & Henry followed. The three of them trailed behind her in silence for a while. “Stop it!” she shouted over her shoulder eventually, “I don’t need a fucking bodyguard, much less three!” She didn’t want to admit that with 3 huge dudes trailing her, it was unlikely anyone would try anything. Maybe call the police on her behalf, that would be satisfying.

“We can do this all night, Shy,” Chris responded.

“Although at some point, someone should go back and get that pie out of the oven,” Seb pointed out.

“It would be a tragedy if it burned, it looked really delicious,” Henry added.

She finally stopped in her tracks, but still kept her back towards them. Chris approached cautiously, “Shy, I wasn’t thinking. I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have brought your husband into it. And of course I know you don’t need my protection. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to give it to you. You’d defend me too, I know you would.” He could hear her sniffle, and she turned around to give him a hug, smearing tears on his shirt. He kissed her on top of her head, and whispered well below the hearing of the others “I love you, Shy. I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

“I know, Chris.” She swiped at her tears, and stepped back to look at the other men.

Seb stepped forward first, “I’m a huge dumbass. I thought I was standing up for you, I was just being a selfish dick. Neither you nor your infinitely amazing cooking deserved that. I’m sorry.” She nodded, and stepped in to hug Seb.

Lastly, she turned to Henry. He kept a respectful distance from her, but inclined his head, motioning for her to come closer. He spoke in low tones, just for her. “Shyla, I’m not great at being in relationships. I’m not entirely sure how best to be in one. Part of me is still the same chubby, nerdy kid who doesn’t know what to do when a girl looks at him. I was so excited that you were willing to give me a chance, I just…didn’t want to risk it, and I got jealous. It was stupid. And I swear to you, if you forgive me this once, you will never have to witness that particular brand of idiocy again.” When she arched an eyebrow at him, he added, “I said _that_ brand of idiocy, I make no promises about other brands of idiocy.” She smiled, and opened her arms to invite him in for a hug.


	13. First Day, Last Night

Day one of filming went fine, but that was despite Shyla feeling like she was barely keeping the panic away all day. Between having to wake up so early, getting poked and prodded through hair and makeup, having so many people she didn’t know who she wanted to be nice to but she was too bleary to remember names, and just the non-stop nature of it all. The early days of filming were very focused on the CGI-heavy scenes, so they could get those to the animators, and anything that involved needing a cast member to look particularly fit, like shirtless scenes. But that was just front-loading the unfamiliar for her, if it was just scenes where all she did was sit and talk she would feel more focused, but she didn’t have that luxury. And she was supposed to have a personal assistant assigned to her, but apparently they had to quit last second. Some of the other PAs tried to step up to help, but she didn’t want to impose, so she felt very lost.

By the end of the day, she was exhausted, and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball with a bowl full of ice cream and bourbon. But Henry had been texting her all day. It was sweet, he was really trying so hard to be supportive. Checking in on her, giving tips, it was very thoughtful. But it was also another thing adding to the stress of the day. Henry was leaving tomorrow, and she needed to give him a verdict.

He swept her into his arms as soon as she walked through the door, “How was it? Tell me everything! Dinner is almost ready, if you want to wash up.”

She just held him for a moment. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or what, she might actually be too tired to cry. But then he was bounding off to the kitchen, so she just dropped her bag and went to the bathroom.

When she walked over to the table, he pulled out her chair for her. He had made a dinner that looked lovely. And very Henry, it was very healthy. A huge steak, lots of veggies and salad, a small pile of quinoa, a tall glass of sparkling water with cucumber slices in it. He had even bought some candles, had them glowing in the middle of the table. It was a bit classier than her bourbon/ice cream bowl idea. And healthier.

“Thank you, Henry, this is really thoughtful!”

“Do you really like it? I’ve never made quinoa myself before, but I thought you might need all the protein you could get after today,” he squeezed her shoulders, then took his seat. “Alright, out with it! I want to hear about your day!”

“It was…exhausting. I’m sorry, I’m not much fun tonight. Everything went fine, it was just…a lot.”

“I’m sorry, yeah, it can be a lot. But you’ve just got to pace yourself! See, what you’ve got to do is…”

“Henry, I appreciate that your heart is in the right place, but I don’t really need advice. It was just a long day. I’ve had them before, I’ll have them again.”

“Sorry, I just thought, since this was your first time on a real set, you might like some pointers.”

“I just need to eat and rest. How about you tell me about your day, what did you get up to?” she tried to redirect him.

He launched into the details of his day, how he’d worked out, doing the shopping, checking in for his flight, cooking. She listened attentively, asking questions, but mostly just trying to fill her stomach. She told him about her day, trying not to complain too much. She hadn’t slept very well the night before, she’d stayed up a little too late with Henry, and then just couldn’t get to sleep. It wasn’t his fault, but even though her call time wasn’t as early the next day, she wanted to get to bed early.

“Are you still hungry? I can make you a protein shake.”

“Henry, you’re sweet, but if I have any more protein I will _die_. Thank you for the meal, it was delicious!”

“Well I was inspired after the spread you put out on Saturday! What would you like to do with the rest of our evening? We could hit the gym, or you could join me in the bedroom…?”

“Could we just…watch some TV or something? I’m just tired.”

“Of course, babe, whatever you need.” They cleared the table, discussing their viewing options. When they made their way to the couch, she reached for the remote, but he took it from her. “We…we should probably talk. Since I fly out tomorrow, I should figure out where I’m headed after that,” he looked at her hopefully.

She turned to face him on the couch, taking his big hand in hers. “Henry, this weekend has been wonderful. I really like you, you’re an amazing man.”

“But…?” he guessed, grimacing.

“But…ugh, I don’t want to make this an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, but, I’m not ready for this. I used to be a pretty okay wife, I like to think, but even then it was hard for me to balance everything. And that was with a normal 9-5 desk job, if it got too stressful I was _garbage_ at home. And now I’m just learning how this works, and it’s all new and just _hard_. From everything you’ve shown me this weekend, you’re a giving, supportive partner. I would be so lucky to be with you. But…you wouldn’t be lucky to be with me.”

“That’s not true, Shyla! You’re wonderful!”

“Maybe over the weekend I was! Or when we were just sleeping together! Sure, but that’s not what makes a relationship, Henry. It’s not about how good I can be at my best. And, frankly, right now, I don’t even know how bad my worst is. Everything is new. And I’m just…scared. I’m sorry, Henry, maybe after we’ve wrapped…”

“I don’t even get to try?”

“It’s not about letting you try. It’s about not putting _you_ through it.”

“Why is that _your_ choice? Don’t I get any say in this?”

“Henry, please…”

“No, Shyla. Why do you think you have to protect me? What are you trying to saving me from? Do you think I’m so stupid I don’t know what the risk of a relationship is?”

“My husband _died_ , Henry. He _died_. So, sorry: no, I don’t think you understand the risk, Henry.” She gathered herself for a moment, then continued, “We were college sweethearts. We went through it all together, we grew from idiot teenagers into adults together. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, far from it. There was cheating, there were health problems, there were so many fights. And there were even more great times. All I’m trying to say is that right now, with all I know about myself, I know I cannot be your girlfriend. I can barely be _me_. Shyla, the actress. Shyla, the friend. Shyla the widow. Shyla, the minimally functioning adult. It’s too hard for me, Henry! Let me be selfish! Let me do you a favor!”

He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “You’ve never talked about him before, with me. I don’t even know his name.”

“John,” she said quietly. “John Riddle. He was a good man. Mechanical engineer. He died in a car accident, the other driver was drunk. We’d been together almost 10 years.”

“I’m sorry, Shyla. No one should have to endure that.” He squeezed her hand. “How…how do you know it’ll be any better after you wrap?”

She shook her head, “I don’t. I’m just hoping after making it through this movie, I’ll be a little wiser. I’ll know myself a little better. I’ll know what a bad day on set is really like, and what I need to recover from it. I’ll know how to turn a rough day into a better one. And I’ll be a better actor, I’ll know how to do a fight scene when I’m exhausted, or how to get into character and act when all I feel is sadness. I won’t have it all figured out, I’ll just have it a little more figured out. It might not be enough, even with all that, I might still not really be ready.”

“That makes sense. I just wish you could figure it out with me.”

“I wish I could, too, but I know myself.”

“And when do you wrap?”

“Mid-August, if the schedule doesn’t slip. But Henry…please don’t wait. I like you a lot, but I don’t want to think you’re just sitting there waiting for me to call.”

“Shyla, I…”

“I’m not saying you have to go out and fuck another girl the second you leave Atlanta. I’m just saying I can’t guarantee the future, so, please, just…don’t deny yourself happiness because of me. Live your life.”

“And if I can’t?”

“Henry…I can’t make you do anything. I just want you to be happy. I do care about you a lot, I hope you know that.”

“…should I find a hotel room for the night?”

“No, Henry, don’t be silly. If you don’t feel comfortable sharing a bed with me, I’m happy to sleep on the couch.”

“Now who’s being silly? If tonight’s all I can get of you, then I will gladly have tonight.”

She kissed him, tenderly. She didn’t want to push any boundaries, or hurt him. But she did want to comfort him, and be comforted herself. She felt his tongue test her lips, and she opened to him. Tentatively, he asked “Is this alright? Can we…” she nodded, and he moved forward, pressing her into the couch. Her body found fresh reserves of energy, knowing this might be the last time she would be with a man in…a while, anyway.

She touched his face, taking a moment to look at him, savor him. “Let’s just take it slow, we have all night.”

“You sure you’re not too tired?”

She just shook her head, too dumbstruck. He was the most perfect-looking man she’d ever been with. Even his flaws, like that little brown spot in his blue eyes, was perfect. She was insane, turning this man away. God, he was even a good kisser.

They tangled themselves in each other. Lips, tongues, arms, legs. Just languorously enjoying each other. Running their hands everywhere they could reach. He kissed down her neck to the spot that made her shiver, she nibbled his ear in the way that made him tighten his grip on her.

He sat up just long enough to get their shirts off, his capacity for patience starting to dwindle, he slipped her breasts out of her bra to worship them. He’d considered himself an ass man until the moment he first saw Shyla, approaching him in the restaurant for their first date. And now he wanted to give them a final hurrah.

For her part, if you had asked her before if a man could make her come by playing with her breasts alone, she would have denied it vehemently. But Henry challenged that assumption. She was just about to demand he fuck her senseless, when he picked her up, without a word, and carried her to the bedroom. That was another thing she would miss: even if the muscles and the sheer size of him did nothing else for her, the fact that it meant he could toss her around like she was weightless was endlessly arousing. He yanked her shorts and panties down before removing his own. She thought he would get a condom and join her on the bed, so she started to move to rest her head on the pillow, but he stopped her, pinning her hips to the bed and laying perpendicular to her. He massaged her hips and lower abdomen, slowly spiraling in, and finally spread her. His angle of attack kept both of his hands busy: his left hand continued to massage her swollen lips, while his right plunged his fingers into her. And it gave his lips and tongue plenty of room to play. He took his time teasing her, putting pressure on the tissues surrounding her clit but not actually touching it. Exploring every other fold. When she shifted slightly so she was able to grip his shaft, then he finally rewarded her, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. She played with the head of his cock, since she only had one hand to work with, alternating between pumping him and caressing the tip. As her climax came rushing in, she couldn’t be as artful, but her enthusiastic grip made him briefly wonder if things would be over before they’d really started for him. But she stilled as she came, giving him a moment’s respite, before he went to the nightstand for a condom.

He moved towards her, ready to cover her body in his, but she sat up and closed the distance. They knelt in front of each other, kissing, caressing. He was glad for the chance to slow down for a moment, but soon started struggling with his patience again. She could sense it, and turned him so he sat with his back against the headboard. She straddled him, bracing her hands, and lowered herself onto his thick shaft. This was his favorite, and she knew it. Her gorgeous tits bouncing in his face, hands free to roam as she did most of the work? Heaven. He leaned forward to take a nipple in his mouth, and she stopped her bouncing in favor of a slow grind, knotting her fingers into his hair. He could feel her building again, trying to ramp up the speed to get them there. But she hadn’t quite recovered enough from her last orgasm, so, after a moment of watching the sensual frustration play over her face, he stilled her with his hands on her hips, and moved her off him so he could assume her favorite position. She stayed on her knees, bracing herself against the wall and headboard. He tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back as he entered her. His free hand moved to her clit, holding her hips to him as he drove into her. It seemed like mere seconds before the waves of orgasm started rolling over her, he watched her face freeze in her moment of ecstasy, watched her take a suck in a quick breath before the next wave hit, then again, and again, as he felt himself speed up to meet her. He savored that last look at her before his own eyes squeezed shut as he buried himself in her that final time.


	14. Professional

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any real Marvel nerds: I found out there was an existing Marvel character who went by "Songbird" after I'd already kind of dreamed the character up. I don't know how much depth I'm going to go into about the character, but I didn't really wan to be beholden to material I'm not familiar with, so this is a slightly different Songbird. Her name is Wren, instead of Mimi.

This was it. The day she was going to have to kiss Chris professionally. She had told Chris she wasn’t worried about it, but that wasn’t _strictly_ true. Professionally, she wasn’t worried about it. But kissing someone who was in love with her, and when she had complicated feelings for him, was a messy prospect when she’d already basically rejected him.

“Okay, so, the first time, let’s try to get through the whole scene without stopping,” Joe explained to the two of them. “I’m not going to direct you too much on this, you’ve got the fight down. And for the kiss, I don’t want it to look like you’re being directed, it needs to feel natural. It’s supposed to be after a lot of build-up between these two characters over the past months they’ve been training. And we’ll assume that it would end in the bedroom if it wasn’t interrupted by Vision, but this is the PG-13 part. So make it hot, and keep it going until we cut. And we’ll see how it goes, do more takes after that. Sound good?”

“I think I can handle it!” Chris said cheerfully.

“I guess we’ll see how it goes!” Shyla agreed.

They got into their places, just outside the door. “You’ve got this, Shy. It’ll be fine,” Chris reassured her.

“Here goes nothing!” she looked at the floor, and spent a moment getting into character.

She heard the call for “Action,” and she strode into the room, angrily.

“Okay, let’s do this right now, Steve! I’ll prove I’m ready.”

Chris walked in as Steve, calmer than Wren but with furrowed brows from the argument. “Wren, I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

“I don’t need protection.” She finished wrapping her knuckles, and he did the same, and pulled his shirt over his head. Shyla had a harder time focusing on keeping her cool than Wren would, but she managed to maintain her expression.

He stepped in the ring, and took his stance with an “Alright, let’s do this.”

Wren fought hard and had to fight smart. Shyla managed to make it through the choreography, and was pretty sure she didn’t make weird faces. They got to the part where he flipped her onto the ground and pinned her, and she was so distracted she almost forgot her line: “What are you trying to protect me from?”

Their chests were heaving, as Steve studied her face. There was a fantastic moment when he clearly made the choice to succumb, and he kissed her. Any illusion that this would just be business was gone, Chris was a great actor, but this felt too real. She felt her body rise involuntarily to meet his, she already had her legs wrapped around his waist, so adding to the physical connection made her almost moan. He released her hands and she wrapped her arms around him. Feeling the muscles across his back, she had a hard time resisting digging her nails in. But she felt herself being lifted, Chris pulling them into a seated position, her in his lap. She raked a hand through the hair at his neck, feeling him starting to do the same, and then heard someone call out Vision’s line “Captain Rogers wished to know when Mr. Stark was arriving.”

They broke their kiss and sat forehead-to-forehead, panting. He managed his line, “Thank you. We'll be right up.”

They had to go through various parts of the scene, including the kiss, a few more times. Just a lot of “move your arm, it’s blocking her face,” things like that. But Shyla knew that, whatever combination of takes they used, that first one was something special. That wasn’t acting, that was just their real feelings coming out. The build that Joe had been looking for had been real, and this was the logical conclusion. It was tender, it was hot, it was exactly what Shyla couldn’t let herself want from Chris. And it was exactly what she needed from him. And she knew he had felt it, too. _He_ knew she wasn’t just acting. _He_ knew their hearts had been pounding together. He had to.

After they were done shooting, she heard a knock on her trailer door. Of course, it was Chris, leaning against the doorjamb just like his character always did, wanting to talk. She let him in, and sat, trying to create a little physical distance from him. She trusted him completely, but she didn’t trust herself.

“I thought we might need to talk,” he started. He gave her space to say something, but she didn’t take the bait, just waited for him to continue. “That was…not exactly a typical onscreen kiss. In case you were wondering.”

She chuckled, “Yeah, despite my inexperience, I thought that might have been…singular.”

“You know I don’t want to pressure you, Shy.”

“I know.”

“But I also know you felt the same thing I did. You _had_ to. That was…”

“Special,” she agreed. He waited a long moment, giving her a chance to say more. To say anything. But she didn’t, she let it hang there.

“But…it wasn’t special enough, was it?” he asked quietly.

Her eyes were starting to brim with tears now. “That’s not it at all, Chris. This is just all so complicated, and scary.”

“What’s complicated about it, Shyla?” frustration was starting to creep into his voice, turning up the volume a notch. “I love you. I think you love me, too, you’re just not ready to admit it.”

“It’s not that simple!”

“Why not? Why can’t you just let it be simple?”

“Because it’s not just about you, Chris! It’s Seb, and it’s Henry, too.”

“I know they want you, too, Shyla, but you can be selfish, you don’t have to put their feelings first.”

“But I don’t even know what my feelings are! I care about you so much, but I care about them, too!” The tears started to fall faster when she saw the stung look on his face. “I’m such an idiot. I thought that saying no to everyone would make things easier. I thought you’d all move on. You’d hear a ‘no’ and just shrug and move on to the next woman. We could just be friends, and be happy. But no!”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“Clearly I don’t! If I knew it would be so hard to just be friends with me, I would have been a much bigger asshole from the start!”

He looked almost shocked at how much she was missing his point. “No, you don’t realize how incredible you are! From the moment we met at that soccer game, you knocked me off my feet. I doubt any of us have ever known a woman like you, we didn’t know someone like you could _exist_!”

“YOU did, Chris! You knew me for months before any of this happened! And yet, YOU didn’t ask me out. YOU gave Henry my number! YOU just sat back, waiting ‘til the last second to come to Atlanta while Seb made his move! You were the _last_ person to ask. If I had decided to date during filming, I would be with Henry or Seb right now. You would have been too late.”

He ran a hand over his mouth. “Don’t…don’t say that, Shy.”

“That you’re too late?”

“I’m not.”

“Why did you wait so long, Chris? Why did you give my number to Henry? Why did you leave me with Seb?”

He looked like he wanted to roar. He was frustrated, angry even. But not at her. “I don’t know. I didn’t understand. I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you, I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship, I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now.”

Her voice was small, “And I don’t get to feel the same way?”

He collapsed onto his knees in front of her. She put her hand on his cheek, clean-shaven for the role. He clutched it to him like a lifeline, eyes closed against all the emotions roiling through him. He pressed her hand to his cheek, then to his lips. They both had tears rolling down their faces now, he kept kissing her palm, her wrist. He gave her arm a small, gentle tug, and she buckled down onto her knees in front of him, face on his chest. He put his free hand to her cheek, and she looked up at him. Then she turned and kissed his hand, mirroring him, squeezing her eyes shut while more tears overflowed onto her cheeks. He moved her hand to the nape of his neck, and his hand to hers, and they pulled each other in for the kiss.

It was so tender and tentative, neither wanting to be selfish or pushy, just wanting to give comfort. But as their tears dried, the kiss became needier. They both wanted something, and felt certain that whatever it was, was just out of reach, and they’d only ever find out if they held each other. He leaned forward, laying her on her back, pinning her to the floor. She clutched at his back and wrapped her legs around him, trying to pull their bodies as close together as possible. He sat up just enough to pull his shirt over his head and returned to her. Unlike the PG-13 kiss from earlier, this time she did claw at his back, and he responded, moving his hand up her side, under her shirt. She squeezed him with her thighs, he ground against her and she gasped. He kissed the hollow of her throat, and she breathed his name, “Oh Chris, Chris…”

He gripped her tighter as she said his name. He’d been trying so hard not to be possessive of her, knowing how much she would hate it. He’d lost track of how badly he wanted to be possessed _by_ her. Hearing her say his name, sigh it like that, while holding on so tightly…it was like a missing piece had fallen into place, he needed her. More than air. His control was slipping, he felt his hands moving over her body. He wanted to go slow, savor this moment. But he couldn’t.

He squeezed her breast, overflowing his grip. He grabbed her hip, certain her movements were going to shatter him and not sure if he wanted her to stop or do it harder. He did know they were both wearing too many clothes. He freed her breast from her bra and top, clamping down on her breast with his mouth, and she cried out. He swirled his tongue around it, then closed his jaw until he held her now-hard nipple, rolling it between his teeth. Shyla was reaching a frenzy, clutching at his neck and shoulders, trying to push herself against him as best she could. She was trembling under his touch, and he had never felt so powerful as he did knowing he could have that effect on her.

He felt her feet move, previously locked together behind his back, going lower down his body. He was confused for a moment, but realized she was trying to edge his jeans down around his hips. He chuckled with her nipple still in his mouth, and she shivered and writhed even harder. He lifted off her to unbutton his jeans and help her out of her clothes, but was temporarily mesmerized but the sight of her. Flushed, lips swollen, legs spread. Even clothed, it was the most erotic thing he’d seen in his life, he was transfixed. He finally moved his hands to the button of his jeans, fumbling to release them, suddenly feeling shaky. But he felt her hand on his. His heart soared for a second, thinking it was an offering of assistance.

But it came crashing down when he met her eyes. Breathless, she said, “Chris, we can’t…we can’t come back from this.”

He sat back on his heels, trying to keep his heart from breaking. “Do we need to?” he looked at her pleadingly.

She put her breast back in her bra and righted her shirt, and sat up and hugged him around the middle. “Yes. Please, Chris. Please. If you can be patient, give me a chance to sort myself out. Hopefully I can make it worth the wait.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and they held each other, willing it to be enough. “And the waxed torso thing is weird, anyway. I don’t know whose idea it was that Captain America should be hairless. I should give it time to grow back.” They both laughed, still not letting go.


	15. Hard Day

Sebastian could hear the strains of loud music coming through his bedroom wall. Which was a little strange: that wall separated his bedroom from Shyla’s, so other than when Henry had barged onto the scene, he didn’t hear anything from her room. If she listened to music, she did it elsewhere in the apartment: she’d listen to music while they were cooking, or maybe if she was reading on the balcony, and then usually at reasonable volumes. But this was loud, and definitely coming from the bedroom. He felt a momentary clutch of panic, worrying that it was intended to cover up sex noises. They’d fallen back to a fun, if somewhat flirty, friendship, and he was trying not to be too hooked on her, but he wasn’t exactly jazzed about the notion of her hooking up on the other side of the wall. But this didn’t sound like hookup music, it seemed really…sad.

He sent her a text, seeing if she wanted to do anything this weekend, and checking if they were still on for a cheat day. Chris was out of town for the weekend, so it was just going to be the two of them. She didn’t answer, which was strange. Normally she texted back within moments, but he got up, made some coffee, grabbed a bite, and still, no response. He took a quick shower, then tried calling her. He could hear her phone ringing through the wall, even with the loud music playing, but she didn’t pick up.

He started to get worried. This was not like Shyla at all. Had something happened to her? Was the loud music to cover the sounds of her being murdered? He hastily pulled on jeans and a tee, and ran over to her door. No one had kicked it in, that was a good sign. He skipped past the polite knocking and went straight to pounding on her door. He tried shouting her name, and then listened with his ear cupped to the door. He was just considering how hard it would be to kick in a real door, not a prop, when he heard the locking mechanisms coming undone.

Shyla stood there, wrapped in a towel, dripping wet. But the first thing he noticed wasn’t the skin on display, it was the complete and utter desolation on her face. She had clearly been crying hard moments before.

He rushed at her, trying to look her over, see if she was hurt, figure out the source of the pain, “Fuck, Shyla, what’s wrong? Who did this to you?”

She sniffled, “Calm down Seb, I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine, but I’m not physically hurt. Just…come in.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just…I heard the music, and you wouldn’t answer your phone, and I was worried. What’s wrong?” He turned back to her, and saw she was just leaning her back against the closed door, head in her hands. He pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her, trying to make comforting noises. He’d never seen her like this before, hadn’t even imagined she _could_ be like this. She was always so cool and confident, it tore his heart in two to see her so broken. He wanted to do anything in his power to fix it, whatever it was. He mumbled Romanian terms of endearment to her, see if that helped. She seemed to calm down a little. “ _Draga mea_ , tell me what’s going on, let me help.”

She took a deep, ragged breath, then another. “Seb, you can’t fix this. This is…it’s…my husband died 3 years ago. Today. I just…”

He held her head to his chest, smoothing her dripping hair. Of course. “I’m so, so sorry, Shyla.” He went back to murmuring nothings into the top of her head. She finally relaxed into his arms, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her sobs quieted, and her breath became more measured. He moved so he could hold her face in his hands, and made a futile attempt to wipe her tears away. “Hey, I can’t fix this, but I can _help_. What do you need? Just name it.”

“Seb, you’re sweet. But usually I just spend the day feeling sorry for myself. I save it all up and have a big breakdown. It’s basically an all-day tear-fest, punctuated with chocolate. I’m no fun to be around, and I’m an ugly crier, so it’s typically a solo event.”

“Well, I love chocolate and I love ugly criers. You shouldn’t be alone today. You’re stuck with me.” He gave her a friendly kiss on the forehead, which reminded him she was dripping wet. “Oh, uh…were you in the shower or something? You can definitely get back to that, sorry I interrupted. But after you’re dressed, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“I was just crying in the bathtub. It’s fine, the water was already cold.” She sighed heavily, still sounding a little tear-choked. “Okay, you can stay. But you are free to bail at any point, I truly understand.”

“Cool, I’ll just be cruising the dating apps and seeing if a better offer comes along. Shut up, Shyla, I’m staying, what kind of asshole do you take me for?”

She gave him a squeeze, “Alright, you asshole, you can stay. Now let me go dry off.” He squeezed her back and released her.

And of course, when their bodies moved apart, without the compression holding it together, her towel dropped to the floor. They both went completely still, and could hear the _wumpf_ of the terrycloth hitting the floor, even over the music coming from the bedroom.

Seb steadfastly didn’t look down. “You’re, uh…you’re naked, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

“Shit,” he offered.

“Shit,” she agreed.

She couldn’t help but laugh. She bent down, picked up her towel, and walked off without bothering to put it back around her. Can’t un-ring the bell, he’d seen what he’d seen. She pulled her hair over her shoulder to start toweling it off.

Seb really tried not to look. She was his friend, she was grieving. She didn’t need him being a creeper, taking advantage of her vulnerable state. But when he turned to go sit on the couch, he saw her take the last few steps to her bedroom. He didn’t even want to look, but…there she was. The perfect curves of her ass. She didn’t even close the door to her bedroom, so as she turned to pick some clothes out of her dresser, he could see the swell of her breast. He finally tore his eyes away and went to sit. He was going straight to hell.

They alternated between comfort and distraction. He held her while she cried, then she would crack a joke, and he would do something to distract her for a while. They talked a lot. About her husband, and about loss, but also just about their childhoods, their families, their memories. And they ate a lot of chocolate, she’d bought an entire cake and a tray of brownies, plus she had chocolate-peanut butter ice cream that she kept in her freezer at all times. No one could fault her preparation for a day of mourning. Eventually, he convinced her that they should eat something with protein, and she conceded to getting Chinese delivery.

When they settled back on the couch with their chopsticks and takeout containers, she challenged, “Teach me Romanian.”

“The whole language?”

“You got somewhere to be? No, I just meant…I dunno, at least give me a little Romanian 101, maybe teach me some fun phrases or something.”

He swallowed a mouthful of orange chicken, washed it down with a swig of beer, and got to it. “Alright, ‘ _Salut’_ , that’s ‘hello’.”

“ _Salut_!”

“Very good. ‘ _Ce faci_?’ is ‘how are you,’ to which you would reply ‘ _bine’_ , “fine’.”

“ _Ce faci? Bine.”_

“You’re a natural, you’re basically Romanian now. Okay, let’s get a little fancier: ‘ _dracu-ma’_.”

“ _Dracu-ma_ _!”_

“Excellent, that was ‘fuck me’,” he preened, proud both that she sounded so good and that he got her to say something dirty so fast.

She kicked him from her side of the couch, “What’s ‘asshole’?”

“ _Idiotule_ ,” he translated, grabbing the foot that kicked him.

“ _Idiotule?_ That doesn’t sound as rude as what I said!” she laughed.

He put his takeout container down, and started massaging her foot, “Don’t you trust me, _draga mea_?”

“Depends on what _draga mea_ means.”

“’My darling’, ‘sweetheart’. Just a term of endearment.”

“Mmhmm, and if I googled it, would that really be what I find?”

“I swear to you, _draga mea_ , it’s just sweet nothings.”

“Ooh! Right there! Ah, that’s good!” she moaned, throwing her head back as he rolled her toes one by one between his fingers. “ _Dracu-ma_ _!”_

He laughed heartily at that. “What a filthy mouth you have on you!”

“I learned from the best!”

“I’ve got a lot more to teach,” he threatened. There it was again, that “I’m going to hell” feeling. Watching her, blissed-out (however temporarily) on Chinese food and foot rubs was…a sight. He wanted to move his hands up her leg, over her calf, past her knee, along her thigh…

But this was still his grieving friend. A friend who needed comfort, and not that kind.

She plopped her other foot in his lap and wiggled her toes at him, “Next!”

“Yes mistress,” he assented, switching to her other foot. “Alright, what is the funniest movie in the world?”

“ _Young Frankenstein_.”

“You didn’t even hesitate! Wow, really? Not _Anchorman_? _Airplane_? _Monty Python_?”

“Nope. _Young Frankenstein_ , final answer.”

“Let’s watch it!”

“Unnh…foot rub first. Movie second,” she grunted.

“Man, you’re demanding!” He finished with her feet, then turned to the last of his orange chicken.

She popped up to go to the bathroom, and came back with a bottle of scotch and 2 glasses. “If you’re not going to leave me alone, I’m not going to drink alone. Dalwhinnie 15,” she explained, sloshing the amber liquid into each glass.

“Was that his…uh…”

“No, it’s _my_ favorite.” She handed him a glass and took her own. She raised it, and he followed. “ _Dracu-ma_!” she cheersed.

“ _Dracu-ma_ _!”_ he laughed.

They watched the movie, getting pretty drunk along the way. At some point, after goofing around over a funny scene, she found herself cuddling up under his arm. When she settled onto his chest, she realized she could feel the salt on his tee. “Oh God, your shirt is almost crunchy from all the crying I did on you! I’m so sorry, I can pause it if you want to go change.”

She gave him space to get up, but he just leaned forward enough to pull his shirt over his head, then pulled her back to his chest. “Whiskey makes me overheat anyway,” he shrugged.

She touched a finger to his chest and made a hissing noise, then shook out her hand. Her head bounced when he laughed at her dumb joke. “Thank you, Seb. For everything today, including but not limited to letting me make your shirt gross.”

Her hand was resting on his broad chest, and he took it in his hand, raising it to his lips and kissing the palm. He pressed it to his cheek, “Of course, _draga mea_. Anything for you.”

She craned her neck to look up at him. He was so wonderful. He was looking down at her, with his lovely eyes, so blue. He licked his lips, like he was always doing, and she felt her thumb move to them. She felt her body move, until she was looking down at him. She felt her head dip, felt her lips touch his. Felt the fire spread out from that point of contact, radiating through every inch of her body, and settling at her core.

He couldn’t move. He knew he should push her off him, settle her back on her side of the couch. They’d been drinking, she was emotional, this wasn’t right. But, God, her lips were so soft, so sweet. How did she taste like berries? How was her hair so soft, with his hand tangled in it? How was her skin so hot against his? How could her curves feel so fucking _good_?

She pressed into him when she felt his hand play at the hem of her shirt, and harder when it slipped underneath, tracing the path of her spine. She needed this. She needed to feel alive. Her hands shook as she pulled her shirt over her head, wanting to feel more of his skin. She lowered herself to him, kissing his neck, moving her tongue to taste his pulse. She suddenly felt like she didn’t know what to do with her hands, she wanted to touch all of him at once, and two hands wasn’t enough to do that.

But then his hands were at her wrists. She thought for a moment he would guide her, make the decisions for her, make it easy. But he lifted them off his body, saying, “Shyla, stop. This isn’t…this isn’t right.”

She sat up and realized her cheeks were wet with tears.

“Oh, God, Seb, I’m sorry, I…”

“Shhh, no, this is on me. I shouldn’t have let this happen.” He sat up, still holding her wrists, now keeping her from burying her head in her hands in shame. “Don’t. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“I just…I needed…” she tried.

“Hey, there’s no need to explain. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her, trying to just hold her like the friend he needed to be. Even with their bare skin against each other, this time it didn’t feel like the same scorching heat as before. Just the gentle warmth of sunshine.

She sat back, looked at him, smoothed his long hair back from his face. “Thank you.”

He gave her a sad smile. “I should…probably go.”

They got up, found their shirts, and she walked him to the door. “Really, Seb, thank you so much for today. I’m sorry I…”

“No, don’t apologize. I’m glad I could be here for you. You gonna be okay? Can’t have you waking up with a hangover tomorrow.”

She wrapped an arm around his should, hand on the base of his neck, pressing into his chest with her check and hand, like they were dancing. “I promise, I’ll drink a big glass of water before I go to bed.”

“ _Draga mea_ ,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he held her. _What am I going to do with you?_ He finished in his head.

She stood on tiptoe and pulled him down to her, kissing just at the corner of his mouth. Patting him on the chest, she stepped back, letting him leave.

He backed up, eyes not leaving her. Even as he opened the door, he gave her one last, long look before stepping out and closing the door behind him. He raked both hands through his hair on the walk down the hall to his apartment. He needed to get her out of his head, get _that_ out of his head. That feeling of her, that knowledge of her. She was grieving, she was lonely, she was drunk: it wasn’t about him.

Shyla pressed her back into the closed door. Fuck. What had she done? She was just…so lonely. She didn’t want to date. She didn’t want to jerk Seb around. She didn’t want to jerk _any_ of them around. Why couldn’t she just say no? Why did she keep saying “someday, maybe”? “September”? What was wrong with her? She was so fucked. When they wrapped, she was going to have to make some decisions, and she was terrified. When Seb licked his lips, she knew the answer. When Chris laughed, she felt such clarity. When Henry touched her…

But it couldn’t work like that. She’d been monogamous for so long, she wasn’t sure she could handle the poly thing. And that’s if any of _them_ could, much less all of them.

The whisky was pounding through her head. It felt like every heartbeat caused a moment to throb: * _thump_ * her first kiss with Henry * _thump_ * feeling her chest against Seb’s * _thump_ * seeing Chris over her, reaching to unbutton his jeans.

It only made her heart beat faster, and the cascade of images and sensations sped with it. She got a glass of water, trying to cool her overheated blood, but it wouldn’t work. She understood how people believed in hauntings, she could feel all three men looming over her, see three sets of blue eyes burning into her. She stumbled to her bed, stripping out of the restrictive clothing that felt like it was suffocating her. She pulled her vibrator out of the nightstand, she had to clear her mind somehow. She tried to at least narrow her focus. Her mind took her back to minutes ago, feeling Seb under her. Imagining the rest of their clothes disappearing, begging him to fuck her, feeling him inside her, his hands all over her.

On the other side of the wall, Seb’s thoughts were much the same. As he pumped himself towards climax, he felt like he really heard her cry out. Her name ground out of the back of his throat as he finished.

 _Dracu-ma_ , indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the obligatory Google-translated Romanian! Seems like you can't write Seb-fic without it!


	16. Disney Diversion

“Does it make me a shitty person that I’m kind of glad Scarlett kicked me in the face?” Shyla asked after they were finished getting settled in their rooms in the villa they’d be in for the next few nights. Due to an unfortunate accident while filming, Shyla found herself with a black eye for the last week in Atlanta. Nothing was broken, but it was swollen enough the makeup artists couldn’t do much with it, so the filming schedule had to change a bit, giving most of Team Cap some surprise time off. And Shyla had one place that she wanted to go to forget about her troubles: Disney World.

“I didn’t know you were into that kind of pain,” Chris teased.

“It gave us some time off! And we get to go on a fun trip! And the black eye makes me look like a total badass!” she shadowboxed a little.

“It looks like you’re the victim of abuse!” Seb insisted. “People are going to think one of us is your abusive boyfriend!”

“I think it looks more like a ‘you should see the other guy’ bar fight story. I need a leather jacket now! And a _motorcycle_!”

“Well, unless you want your leathers with Mickey on them, you might have to delay your shopping until after this trip,” Chris pointed out.

“True, that would seem a bit less badass. But, in the interim, we get to do Disney World! I’m so excited! And this villa is gorgeous! Also, thank you for letting me have the room with the king bed. You are both very generous.”

“Well, it was your shiner that got us the time off, it was the least we could do,” Seb insisted.

“Still, I think I owe you both. I can pay in churros!”

“We don’t get to spend the whole time eating whatever, you know that, right?” Seb pointed out.

“Well, you can watch while I eat _your_ churros, then!”

“That hardly sounds fair…” Chris pouted.

“Seems like a fantastic idea to me!” Shyla preened. “But I recognize I might be a little biased. Oh my god, Chris, have you had the Mickey macarons from Holly Jolly Bakery in Disneyland? Do they have those here?”

“Shy, I have no idea. I don’t have every menu memorized. Maybe in Epcot, in France?”

“They are heaven! Oh, I’m so excited!” she was practically vibrating.

“We should _not_ have let you have so much caffeine,” Chris said in maternal tones.

“It’s not caffeine! It’s Disney Magic!” she insisted.

They thought they were prepared. She was a Disney princess, after all. They were both sufficiently familiar with Shyla’s eccentricities at this point, and generally found them adorable, so they knew how enthusiastic she could be. And Chris was a huge Disney geek himself, so when Shyla tried to warn them, he was sure he knew what to expect. Of _course_ she was a huge Disney fan.

But when she emerged from her bedroom the next morning, already in Mickey ears and a short dress that looked very much like something from Minnie Mouse’s closet, they thought maybe they’d underestimated. Even more so when they met their VIP tour guide and started walking down Main Street, and Shyla started singing and dancing her way down the middle of the road. “Just so you know, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d be singing and dancing all day!” she reminded them when she went back to try to get Chris to dance with her.

Chris was certain he fell in love with her a hundred more times that day. Every song she knew, every Disney fact she spouted, her unbridled enthusiasm, how good she was with kids they spoke to. Everything made him want to scoop her into his arms and kiss her. They alternated who sat with who on the various rides, but Seb was uninterested in the Little Mermaid ride, so Chris got her all to himself for that one. It was a little kids’ ride, but they just belted the songs all the way through. During “Kiss the Girl” the ride got stuck. It was just for a moment, but watching her there, the low, colorful lights of the ride playing over her face, and her looking so happy…it was all he could do not to obey the song’s instructions. He settled with taking her hand. Since their kiss, she’d made every effort to just be his friend, not push boundaries, not tease him. The least he could do was show her the same respect.

Seb was also falling in love all over again. She was so smart and funny, and her general _joie de vivre_ was intensified in the Happiest Place on Earth. And she wanted so badly for everyone around her to have just as much fun as she was having. It was impossible not to love her. Even when she looked like an idiot while trying to do the robot in the halls to Space Mountain, her knowledge of every word of the Beastie Boys’ “Intergalactic” was pretty impressive. Even if she made a _terrible_ robot. They hadn’t really talked about what happened on the anniversary of her husband’s death. He knew it was grief and alcohol, but he couldn’t stop himself from holding out hope that she’d come to him and tell him that wasn’t all it was. But weeks had passed, and it never came up. He was almost starting to wonder if he’d imagined the whole thing.

After they returned to the villa, Seb went and knocked on Chris’ door, and asked to come in. “I can’t do this, man.”

Chris wished he could play dumb, but he knew exactly what Seb was talking about. “I know, man. But we’ll wrap soon enough. Another week here, a couple weeks in Berlin, then just a week in France, and we’re done.”

“That’s a whole _month_! Are you telling me you’re fine to just keep sitting back?” Seb was pacing, raking his hand through his hair.

“Yeah. And no. I mean, it’s not fun, but if it’s what Shyla wants…”

“And I’m supposed to compete with that? And fucking Henry _Cavill_?”

“I think Henry’s gone, man.”

“So now I’m just competing with _you_?” Seb practically shouted. He didn’t want Shyla to hear, so he pulled back the volume, “I don’t want that, either!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, man. I love her, too. I don’t see either of us backing down. So either she chooses one of us or she chooses none of us. Or, I suppose she chooses both of us.”

“How can we make her choose?”

“She said when filming is done. I dunno, I guess she’ll let us know.”

“I can’t wait, man.” Seb stopped pacing, but continued his frustrated fidgeting, rubbing his stubble. “What do you think she’d do if I asked her out again?”

“Have some respect man, she said no,” Chris was starting to get angry. Pushing Shyla’s like this seemed like dangerous territory.

“But really, would she say no again? You already said, we’re close to the end of shooting. And we already got most of the personal scenes out of the way, there’s nothing that requires the same level.”

“If you move, and she doesn’t slap you, I’m going to have to move too. I can’t just roll over here. Are you sure about this?”

“Well, let’s just do it together, then. If she’s making us compete, we might as well compete directly.”

“She’s going to hate this.”

“It seems fair to me. We’ll both know that the other is making a move, we don’t have to be sneaky about it, and I’d think it takes some of the pressure off her. She doesn’t have to worry about us if it’s our idea.”

“I’m telling you, she’s going to read us the riot act.”

“Well, at least then we’ll know.”

Shyla was in the hot tub on the balcony of their villa. After spending all day on her feet, she was pleasantly exhausted. She’d thought doing a Disney day would be easier, since she was in such good shape, and they were getting the VIP treatment, but nothing really could make a full day in the parks leave you any less footsore.

The boys came out in their swim trunks with beers in-hand, and slipped into the water, as she just sat back to get ready for a relaxing evening. “I told you the hot tub would be nice!” she said in response to their little grunts and sighs as they lowered themselves into the water.

“Today was a lot of fun!” Seb said. Since he wasn’t as much of a Disney fan as the other two, he hadn’t really been sure what he was getting himself into, but he had enjoyed Disney World. With Shyla, anyway.

“It was the best!” Chris agreed. “Wait…do you have a Minnie Mouse bikini, too?”

“I told you: I literally have a whole Disney-related wardrobe. I could probably wear two different Disney outfits a day for a week and still not go through it all.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Seb rolled his eyes and nudged her. “It’s cute.”

“Look, if you two want to Disgeek it up with me, I support it. But don’t hate on this game. I’m injured, remember? You’re not allowed to be mean to me.”

“You know I’m teasing, Shyla. It’s a cute kind of nerdy,” Seb insisted, sitting a little closer.

“I’ll forgive you after this beer.”

“Then bottoms up, _draga mea_!” he lifted his bottle to her in cheers, and they clinked. She hoped the heat of the water already had her blushing, because the Romanian term of endearment put her right back to the last night she’d heard him say it. It was like the words themselves shot straight to her core.

“Hey, no fair speaking Romanian!” Chris objected.

Seb returned “Hey, it’s not my fault you only speak one language!”

Shyla explained “Seb said it just means dear or darling or sweetheart. And Bostonian is practically another language!”

“Well that’s a wicked pissah! Come ‘ere, sweet haaaaht!” he put his arm around Shyla playfully. She knew her cheeks had to be getting bright red now. She just drank more of her beer and tried to stop thinking about…anything.

They chatted about the plans for the next day, what they were going to see. They made it to their second beers, and when Shyla finished, Seb took her bottle. “Hey, so, we’re getting close to wrapping. What are your plans?”

“I haven’t decided. I have another movie booked, but it’s a pretty small part, so I don’t have to be around for a lot of filming, and it doesn’t start for a bit. I think I’m just going to travel for a bit. Thought I might climb some mountains, I’m in the best shape of my life so I’d hate to waste it. I was just pricing out a trip to climb Kilimanjaro last night, actually.”

“That’s amazing, Shy!” Chris was floored.

Seb asked, “I thought you were going to settle down, get a dog?”

“Figured it was safer to get my bigger adventures out of the way first. Maybe after the press junket.”

“Back in LA?” Chris questioned.

“I’m not sure. I mean, I have the house there. But I never really liked LA much, I don’t know if anything is keeping me there. Not sure where else to go, though. What are you two up to?”

Chris started, “I’m takin’ a break. I don’t have anything going on until Infinity War starts filming.”

Shyla was surprised, “ _Really_? Nothing at all?”

“Nah. Well, something I filmed earlier is coming out next year, but that’s it. I thought I’d probably go back to Boston, spend some time with my family. Then before you know it, it’s press junket time, then another press junket, and then it’s going to be time to head to Atlanta again.”

“You sound kind of bummed about it.”

“No, I just always get this way. I run hot & cold on acting. I love it for a while, can’t imagine doing anything else. And then I get burnt out, and I talk about retiring. I just need to take a little time to not think about it, there’s still two more Avengers movies on my contract, so I just need to pace myself.”

“That sounds very reasonable. What about you, Seb?’

“I’m back to Atlanta and Charlotte for another film. It’s a smaller one though, should just be for a month. Then back to New York,” Seb explained.

“When do you get to cut your hair?”

Seb laughed, “Like five minutes after we wrap?”

“Good call, it’s starting to get a mind of its own.” She reached over and ruffled the offending tresses

“Yeah, it’s getting out of control,” Seb agreed. “So…with all your travel plans, what are your plans romantically?”

Shyla was shocked, “What?”

Chris shot a look at Seb, “Really? Now?”

“No time like the present,” Seb returned. “Well, Shyla…when we started filming, and I asked you out, you said you didn’t want it to impact your performance. And we’re getting close to the time when your performance won’t be impacted.”

“I…guess that’s true,” she conceded, still skeptical.

“And if I’m not much mistaken, you told Chris something similar.” He waited for her to respond, but she didn’t, she just threw a glance at Chris, and then went back to staring Seb down. So he continued, “And we wanted to know what comes next.”

“What do you mean, ‘what comes next’?” she stalled.

“You know what I mean, Shyla,” Seb insisted, keeping a smile on his face. He knew he was pushing her, he didn’t want to come across as aggressive. “What are we doing here? Are you just going to wait until the day we wrap and just choose? Or try to date us both? Go back to Henry? Or just go travel the world and never speak to us again?”

“No, I…I don’t know,” she slid back into her seat in the hot tub, crossing her arms, feeling defensive.

“Come on, Shy, that can’t be true…” Seb reached to touch her arm, but she dodged his hand.

“Do you both feel this way?” she looked at Chris, who didn’t deny it, just kind of shrugged. “Wow. So, you think I’m just sitting here with some sort of grand design? That I already have a plan, I’m just forcing you to, what, suffer through my friendship? Maliciously using you as a friend until we wrap, where I will finally reveal my big decision, is that how you think this works?”

Seb thought it sounded like rhetorical questions, but the way she looked at him made it clear she expected an answer. “No, I just…you’ve gotta have some idea what you want? _Who_ you want?”

“And why is that?”

Chris finally said, a little sadly, “I mean…don’t you? After everything…”

Tears were starting to form in her eyes, and she couldn’t wipe them away with her wet, chlorine-covered hands. “No,” she said in a small voice.

Seb was regretting pushing her, but there was no going back now. “Then…what’s the plan? Date both of us?”

“I don’t know. Truly, I have been trying _so_ hard not to think about it, and just…be a friend. I’m sorry.”

“Shy, no, you don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Chris tried to comfort her. “It’s just a shitty situation. It’s no one’s fault, it’s just hard for everyone.”

“But it’s _my_ fault. I know that. I got us into this. I just don’t know how to get us out. Every path forward will hurt. And I just…I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I think we’re past that, Shyla. You’re already hurting,” Seb pointed out.

“So…what do I do here? I can’t just make a choice, it’s never been that easy. I can’t imagine you want me to just say ‘no’ to both of you.”

“Can you say ‘yes’ to both of us?” Seb tried.

“Seb, I don’t know…”

“Hear me out,” he explained. “I’m not saying we having to get in this big poly thing. But if this were the real world, and two guys asked you out within a week of each other, you’d probably go out on a date with each of them. Even if one was already your friend, it’s not like going on a date binds you into being exclusive. You’d date them both, and whoever else you wanted, until one guy stood out as the one you wanted to date exclusively.”

“But…I can’t come between you like that.”

Chris shook his head, “Shy, that’s for me and Seb to deal with. And it wouldn’t be much better if you just decided between us, we’d still have to sort that out.”

She was quiet for a second. “I suppose that’s true. Are…are you both sure this is what you want? Like, _really_ sure?”

Chris nodded, “It’s the only way for you to really know, Shy.”

Seb took it up, “And it’ll be fun! You can just let loose, try not to worry so much. You won’t have to feel like you’re leading us on or being unfair. You’re just seeing where things go.”

She considered it. “I don’t know…”

Chris supplied, “You can put whatever rules or limits on things that you want. And any of us can back out at any time, you especially.”

They had to credit her: she wasn’t making the decision lightly. They could practically hear the gears turning, could almost see all the scenarios she had running past the backs of her eyes. But ultimately, she said, “Okay. But…not just yet. I don’t want to feel like I’m sneaking around Berlin with the whole cast there. And…let’s take sex off the table, at least for the first date. Just take some of the pressure off. I’m not saying no sex ever forever, it just feels too…competitive, I guess. Like it’s just a race to get in my panties.”

“Completely fair,” Seb agreed, and Chris nodded.

“And, just…let’s be discrete. I think everyone thinks something’s going on, anyway. I don’t need Mackie’s big mouth to have any more ammo,” she insisted.

“Oh god, yes please. I couldn’t deal with it if Anthony found out, we’d never hear the end of it,” Seb laughed.

“I’m serious, Seb. If this gets out, either to the cast or to the paparazzi, it’s not going to look like an amicable agreement between three friends. It’s going to look like I’m a horrible, cruel slut who is using both of you and playing you against each other. I will look like the bad guy, here. I don’t need the world to hate me before this movie even comes out.”

“None of us want that. We’ll be discrete, no one will know anything you don’t want them to,” Chris said.

“Promise,” Seb agreed.

She waited a long time before she spoke again. “Okay. This is scary as shit, but…okay. We’ll give it a shot. Just…please be kind to each other and to yourselves. I can’t really make that a ‘rule’, I’m just asking both of you, as your friend.” They both responded with little nods and sad smiles. Not sad for themselves, just sad that she was in this position, that this was hard on her, and they both knew it was on them. “Thank you. Okay, I think I need a little space for the rest of the evening. I’m not changing my mind, I just need some time to think about all of this.” She reached for their hands, and gave each of them a little squeeze before getting out of the hot tub.


	17. Voice Lessons

After they’d finished in Berlin, it was straight to France. They had just got in that day, but since they had no other filming obligations, after Shyla had settled into her room, she went off to find a piano and a place to practice in. She’d just gotten the music for a song she was singing in her next film, and she wanted to try to get it in her head as soon as possible. She didn’t think she was hiding from the boys, but now that they were in France, dating was on the table. Neither had asked her out yet, which she found surprising. But the whole weekend was in front of her, plus the following week and weekend. Plenty of time to seek her out. She tried not to dwell as she went through the song a few times, plunking out notes on the piano along the way.

As she belted out the last line of the song, she was already critiquing her performance before she’d even finished the big note. But as the echoing sound died in the conference room, she jumped a mile when she heard clapping and cheering from behind her. She whipped around to see Sebastian just inside the door, looking impressed.

“I knew you could sing, but holy shit, Shyla! That was amazing!” he gushed.

She blushed at his praise, but said “Ugh, thanks, but it’s not amazing _enough_.” She walked near where he was standing and collapsed dramatically into one of the chairs, throwing herself on the table.

He pulled up a chair next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. After the talk in the hot tub, things had been different with the three of them. Sometimes it was a subtle shift, like them hanging out less as a trio, which started slowly but surely. But the flirting had ramped up in less subtle ways. And today, his hand lingered on her, drifting down to rub her back in a way that was more than friendly. “What are you talking about? It sounded perfect!”

She turned her head to look at him, head pillowed on her arms, “There’s this part around my break and…wait, you don’t really sing, do you?”

“No, not really. I mean, karaoke.”

“Okay, then, nothing personal, but I don’t know if you’re the best judge.”

“Okay then, what can I do to help?”

“I think I need to get out of my head a little.” She looked at him for a second, but before he could suggest anything to take her mind off things, she suggested “want a voice lesson?”

“How is that going to help you get out of your head, that seems even more cerebral?”

“Well, I won’t be thinking about _my_ singing, I’ll be thinking about yours.” He looked skeptical but shrugged in acceptance. She sat up and examined him for a second. “Okay, sing something.”

“Just…sing something? Anything?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter. Happy Birthday is fine! Just sing something you know.” He went through Happy Birthday as instructed while she studied his face. He had a solid voice, clearly untrained, but not painful to listen to. “Alright, stand up. You’ll never get a great sound out with posture like that.” She stood with him, moving up close. She put her hands on his shoulders, “Shoulders back.” She stood on tiptoe to reach to the top of his head, and point to a spot on his skull, “Straighten your back, imagine there’s a string attached right here pulling you up.” She moved both hands to his chest, “Okay, your chest should have all the room it needs to breathe. Can you feel that?” He nodded, and she continued, “Don’t puff your chest out, you’re not a gorilla! Just give it the space it needs. That’s better, you’re a good student! Okay, this next part might get a little weird. And maybe a little ticklish. Singing is mostly about getting the right breath.” She put one had on his ribs, under his arm. And her other palm on the flat plane of his stomach, about two inches below his belly button. He twitched a little bit in response, but didn’t say anything, just watched her with a smile, so she went on, “I want you to not just breathe, but fill your body with air. Don’t just expand your ribcage, expand your whole torso, you should be able to move both of my hands at the same time. It doesn’t come naturally, so just practice a few times.” She looked right up into his eyes, waiting expectantly for the first couple breaths, then on the third her face lit up “That’s it! Keep it up!” He faltered a little at her smile, but got back into the groove of it. “Perfect! Okay, now try singing again. Don’t look down at me, look where the ceiling meets the back wall. And pull the sound from here,” she explained, patting him with the hand on his stomach.

He took one last breath and sang. He was a little shocked, what came out sounded better than he would have anticipated. He had been hoping that the voice lesson thing was just an excuse to touch him, but he could see that wasn’t the only reason. He felt her remove her hands from his body, and move to his face, one on each cheek.

“Now drop your jaw and smile into it,” she explained, and he continued singing. She put a balancing hand on his chest and touched the top of his head again to remind him of the posture. “Raise your eyebrows if you have to. There!”

He finished “Happy birthday, dear Shyla, happy birthday to you” and she had been right: he sounded much, much better. “Well, shit, Riddle! You are an amazing teacher!”

She put her hands back on his face and looked up at him with excitement. “I had an amazing student! Are you sure that wasn’t just a con? That you’ve had a bunch of training, and you just faked this to get me to touch you?”

“I swear, it’s not. And if I’d known you’d touch me like that, I would’ve asked for voice lessons a lot sooner,” he moved his hand to her face, along her jaw.

A new voice chimed in from the door, “Wow, I want voice lessons, too!”

“Chris, you already know how to sing,” Shyla pointed out, taking a small step back from Sebastian, and he dropped his hand. She was still not used to this competition, she wasn’t sure if she ever would be. But Sebastian moved to see Chris, too, and pivoted around so he was next to Shyla, with a hand on her lower back.

“Well, none of my teachers looked like you, so I think I could get better…”

“Hardy har,” Shyla rolled her eyes. “Although, actually, could you help me? You play piano, right?”

“A bit.”

“A bit like you can sight read the accompaniment for this song I’m working out, or a bit like you can just periodically plunk out notes for me?”

“I accept your challenge, Riddle, give it here.” He looked over the sheet music, and spread it on the stand on the piano. He played a few experimental notes, and asked Shyla about the tempo. After she explained what they were going for, she stood next to the baby grand, so she could turn to make eye contact with Chris.

“What do you need me to do?” Sebastian asked, feeling a bit at loose ends.

“You can be my scene partner! Just sit or stand right over there!”

“And what’s my motivation?”

“Well, you just watch me adoringly. Your wife is basically watching you fall in love with me, so…that’s not important, though. Focus on the adoration.”

“That I can do!” Seb insisted.

Chris started into the intro music, and Shyla gathered herself and launched into the song. She finally felt like the pieces were falling together. Whether it was the voice lessons, or getting out of her head, or the piano accompaniment, she could feel the parts of the song locking into place. It wasn’t until later, when she was back in the quiet of her room, that she started to think that maybe it was singing a song about how getting the whole world would “never be enough” while looking at the two amazing men she was falling for that helped her connect to the spirit of the song.

When the last notes rang out, Chris looked up from under his long lashes at her, and said “You’ve done it again, Riddle.”

Seb was already cheering and clapping, and ran over to give her a hug, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around. “That was incredible! I thought it was great last time, that was even better!”

She laughed through the spinning, and patted him on the back to put her down. “That did feel right! Thank you for being my scene partner,” she said with a chaste kiss on the cheek. Then she went over and hugged Chris from behind, also giving him a small peck on the cheek, “And thank you for being my piano man.” He put his big hand on her forearm and tried to hold her there, enjoying the feel of her against his back. He considered picking her up and giving her a piggyback ride, but she wrested her arms from him and stepped back. “Well, I think that’s a good place to stop rehearsing. What brings you all to the business center? Do you both just patrol through here to pick up chicks?”

“I heard you singing,” Sebastian admitted, shuffling his feet a little, “so I came to check it out.”

“And I saw Sebastian heading to the business center and wanted to know what he was up to, so I was just being nosy,” Chris confessed without shame.

“Well, what’s next then, boys?”

“We were singing, we could go dancing next?” Chris suggested. He knew he was at an advantage over Seb if there was music involved, so he wanted to press that advantage from his piano playing.

“Ooh, I am not much of a dancer,” Shyla confessed. Her stomach growled, trying to be heard in the planning.

“Food?” Sebastian suggested.

“Well, there’s a tapas place not too far that’s supposed to be good. That way you can pick and choose the stuff that fits your needs, and I can keep all the carbs to myself!”

“I heard they also do live music…” Chris continued the suggestion.

Seb rolled his eyes a little, “Well, I’ll just have to get good and drunk if there’s going to be dancing.”

“I will be joining you with those cocktails, Seb! Alright, sounds like we’re settled. I’m going to take my stuff back to my room and get changed, freshen up. Meet you in the lobby in 15?” The boys both nodded in agreement, and she bounced out of the room with her things.

Chris turned to Seb with a smirk, “Voice lessons, huh?”

“Hey, that was her idea!”

“Suuuuure.”

“Well, like I was gonna say no! And it helped, she’s an excellent teacher!”

“I don’t doubt it, I bet I’d learn a lot with her hands on me like that…”

Chris playfully socked Seb on the arm, and Seb returned the jab. “Well, that’s because you’re an idiot, and you have a lot to learn,” Seb joked.

“Well then I’m all the more deserving of an ‘excellent teacher’!”

Their banter was jovial enough, but each was finding it a little harder every day not to let their jealousy show, or let the bitterness creep in. They both got lost in thoughts of Shyla as they walked together to the lobby.

They were chatting about the week’s filming in the lobby, when Shyla emerged. She was wearing a flowy little sundress, her hair flowing around her shoulders in curls, sandals strapped to her feet. The look fell somewhere between “girl next door ready for a picnic” and “sexy bohemian ready for whatever.” She found some satisfaction in seeing both of their faces light up, even if it made her blush. “Alright, I’m starving! Shall we?” She hooked her arms into each of theirs, and they all walked to the exit.


	18. Table for Three

When they made it to the bar, they found a cozy round table in the corner of the patio. It was still warm out, so it was perfect for drinking as the stars came out. They discussed the menu, and as Shyla was the only one who spoke French, she explained a few things they couldn’t understand. The waiter came over, and she started talking with him in French. Both Chris and Seb smiled along, pretty sure that the server was flirting with her, but not enough of an understanding of French to say for sure. Of course, when the man leaned in closer to her and gestured to the two of them, and her response was to shrug and say something that made him chuckle and lean in even closer, both of her tablemates had their hackles raised. But then it seemed like their conversation turned to ordering food and drinks, and he left to go about his job.

“What was that?” Seb bristled.

“That was me ordering for us? Did I miss something?”

“I think that waiter was more interested in you than your ordering,” Chris pointed out.

“This is France! Everyone flirts with everyone here! He’s not going to take me here on the table, French men just have a very direct way of showing their…appreciation.”

“Well, you weren’t exactly shooing him away,” Seb took his turn.

“I didn’t want our food to have spit in it! What’s with all the jealousy? You two literally proposed an overt competition over me.”

“We just didn’t think…” Seb started.

“Exactly,” Shyla’s voice was getting a little angry, but she remained calm. “You didn’t think. You didn’t think about how I’d feel about any of this. But here we are, and I am not exclusive with either of you. Which, as far as I’m concerned, means I am allowed to flirt with or fuck anyone I see fit, it doesn’t have to be either of you. And if you can’t reign in this shit, I don’t fancy the odds for either of you.”

“Sorry,” they both said simultaneously, and she smiled at them, looking every bit the chastised school boys.

She rolled her eyes at them, “Just chill. I’m not going around seducing random dudes, and I certainly wouldn’t do it in front of you if I was. God, you two really need to eat something. Treat yourselves a little!”

The conversation continued as the food and drinks flowed. The waiter continued to flirt every time he came to the table, but it wasn’t mentioned again. After they’d all eaten their fill and had a couple drinks, the band started playing inside. Shyla was cold anyway, so she urged them to go inside to watch.

She told the waiter, and they took their drinks in and found spots at the bar. The band was playing some sort of jazzy Latin-style music, but the lyrics were in French. They all just sat and enjoyed the music. Shyla finished her drink and turned to the bartender to order another, but felt a hand pulling her out of her seat. It was the waiter, dragging her to the dancefloor.

She knew she wasn’t much of a dancer, but it didn’t seem to matter. He wasn’t leading her in a complicated tango, just a somewhat grindy slow dance. He wasn’t bad looking, but she wasn’t trying to make Chris and Seb jealous: she’d meant what she said earlier, but she wasn’t interested in playing games by actively seducing another dude in front of them. When the song ended, she thanked him, and turned to sit back down, but Seb was already waiting for the next dance. She quirked an eyebrow at him, she had anticipated it would be Chris. But Seb stepped in, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. She smiled up at him, “Not even going to ask me to dance, just assume I’d say yes?”

He looked slightly panicked for a second, and then realized she was teasing him, “Well, I know you’re perfectly capable of walking away if that’s what you want to do.”

“Very true!”

He leaned down to talk directly into her ear, “Thanks again for the singing lesson today, that was a lot of fun.”

She tilted her face up so they were cheek to cheek, “It was, you’re a quick study.”

“With the right teacher. What do I have to do to get another lesson on the books?”

“Are we still talking about singing, or did you have something else in mind?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I’ve got a few other things in mind…”

“What were you thinking of starting with?”

“How about we do some sightseeing? We haven’t had a chance to see anything yet.”

He could feel her smile against his cheek, “That sounds fantastic. Tomorrow?”

“Perfect.” They enjoyed the rest of the song together without further conversation, but stayed cheek-to-cheek. He just took in the feeling of her lashes brushing little butterfly kisses on his cheek, feeling her warm breath against his ear, smelling her hair. As they could feel the song come to a close, unknowingly they both shut their eyes, preserving the moment a little longer. But when the applause started and the band transitioned into the next number, Shyla felt another very tall, definitely male figure come up behind her and put his hands on her hips.

He knew there was a risk Shyla wouldn’t respond well, so Chris immediately lowered his lips to her other ear, asking “May I have the next dance?”

Seb was already standing at full height to give Chris a look. Shyla reached up with both hands, one for each man, cupping their cheeks. If she had to admit, being sandwiched between them was hotter than she would have predicted. She gave Seb a little shrug and said, “Fair’s fair. He did ask!” Seb held her hand to his face for a moment longer, brushing her palm with his lips, and backed away.

She was going to turn in his arms to face Chris, but he held her in place. She kept the hand on his cheek as he leaned to her ear once again and said, “Do you want a dance lesson, or to just keep swaying?”

Not that she hadn’t enjoyed the previous dancing, but it was a different sensation feeling him at her back. She could also feel his breath down her neck, and she knew he must have quite the view down her dress. “Mmm, swaying has been treating me well thus far. Way less effortful.”

He took her hand and spun her out from him, then pulled her back in, so she was now facing him. “Show off,” she chided.

“My mama always taught me if you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

She chuckled and lay her head on his chest. “Well, you should either have gotten to me when I’d had less to drink and was more coordinated, or had more to drink and had fewer inhibitions. I’m just starting to get to that sleepy-drunk point.”

“Do you want to go back to the hotel?”

“No, not quite yet. I’ll just have to get a rain check on the lesson. Thank you for asking to dance, you were the first guy tonight to ask instead of just…take.”

“Well, third time’s a charm I guess.”

They danced in silence for a moment. “So,” Shyla started. “Were you going to actually ask me out, or did you have some other trick up your sleeve?”

“You’re telling me you’re not going to ask _me_ out? Well that _is_ disappointing,” he tsked at her. She tilted her head up to look at him and rolled her eyes a little. He offered, “Well, I suppose I can step up to the plate. You busy tomorrow?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Ooh, little Sebby beat me to it? That does sting. Alright: Sunday?”

“My calendar is wide open on Sunday.”

“Okay, should I pick you up at your room or wait in the lobby?”

“What are we doing?”

“Does that matter?”

“I’m _terrible_ with surprises!”

“Well, it’s gonna be a tough wait then. We’ll say noon, in the lobby.”

“Wait, are you going to tell me _anything_?”

“I’ve gotta have some tricks I keep up my sleeve!”

“Do I get to know what I should wear?”

“It’ll be casual, nothing fancy.”

“But casual like ‘wear a casual dress’ or casual like ‘be ready for athletic activity’?”

“You weren’t lying, you are terrible about surprises,” he teased. She thumped him on the chest. He conceded some ground: “Alright, you are fine to wear whatever, I won’t judge you if it’s athletic wear, but a dress would be fine too. Comfortable shoes for walking, though.”

“Walking on cobblestones or on a trail?”

“Be prepared for the possibility of getting dirty.”

“You are having too much fun with this, aren’t you?”

“I think I’m having exactly the right amount of fun with this.”

“You’re going to drive me crazy, you know?”

“That is exactly my plan.” She hit him in the chest again, but buried her face in his chest at the same time, belying her true feelings. He took her hand in his, holding it to his chest. Keeping her hand in place, he extended a finger to tilt her chin up. “You okay with all this?”

“That doesn’t really seem like a fair question to ask at this point.”

“Say the word and I’ll back off. Seb will too.” Sensing her incredulity, he insisted, “No, I’m serious. Look, it was stupid of us to do this whole thing in the first place. We just both realized we liked you, too much to just give up. But it wasn’t fair of us to put it on you like this.”

“No, it wasn’t. It also wouldn’t have been fair to take the choice away from me. I don’t know that there _is_ a fair thing to do here. I suppose if everyone just agreed to go their separate ways it might count, but being unfair all around isn’t the same as being fair.”

“Very true, on all counts.”

“So, in the interim, I guess you’ll just have to hope that Sebastian isn’t a very good kisser.” She patted him on the chest and turned and walked away.

Chris hadn’t even registered that the song had ended, he felt a little bereft watching her walk away. He rubbed his neck and exhaled heavily, then went back to the bar. “She is something else,” he stated simply to Sebastian, eyes still on her until she disappeared into the dark hall that lead to the restrooms. All Seb could do was nod his agreement, and even the bartender laughed and nodded in agreement. Chris couldn’t tell if he understood the words or if it was just a universal feeling, but he strongly suspected the latter. He clinked glasses with his friend in an unspoken toast, and then waited in silence for her return.

“Well, I think the week is catching up with me,” Shyla said, putting a hand on each of them as she leaned between them. She caught the bartender’s eye and said “ _L’addition, s’il vous plait_.” He said something back and she turned to Sebastian and said “You sneak! You didn’t have to pay!” Seb shrugged it off and tried to play casual, but he did blush when she leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek before heading to the door.

“Smooth, Seb,” Chris arched an eyebrow at him, but Seb just patted him manfully on the back as he headed after Shyla. Chris downed the last drop of his drink before heading after them.

“I was just telling Seb, I’m getting a Lyft. I didn’t think to bring a jacket, and my legs are too short to keep up with you two going uphill.” They nodded, both wishing they’d thought ahead enough to do the chivalrous thing and bring a jacket explicitly to throw over her shoulders for a nice moonlit walk. As the car pulled up, and she confirmed it was the right vehicle, when Chris opened the door for her and Seb ran around to the other side, she considered just dodging Chris and leaving the two men to snuggle by themselves in the back which she sat up front next to the driver. But she considered some of the flirty drivers she’d had, she reconsidered, and left it to Chris whether he’d squeeze her into the middle or sit up front. Of course, he went for the back as well.

She settled in and made small talk with the driver. She knew she couldn’t really go fishing for her seatbelt under the guys, and the driver took off before she had a chance anyway. Both of the men were broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, so while the seat was cozy, there was sufficient room for all three asses. But when she tried to relax her back against the seat, she realized the two of them were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. She leaned back on both of them anyway, and gently rested a hand on their knees. Not in a particularly suggestive way, mostly for lack of anything else to do with her hands. They each rested a hand on hers. The driver saw the way both of them looked at her, and started making bawdy jokes, first in French. But when Shyla ignored him, he tried again in English. It didn’t come across well at all, asking if there was room to turn their threesome into a foursome, making everything feel tawdry.

When they made it to the hotel, Shyla hustled inside, Chris and Seb trailing behind her. Once she was in the warmth of the lobby, she turned to them, “Thank you both for a lovely evening.”

Seb countered, “The fun doesn’t have to end here!”

“I think it does, I’m pretty sleepy,” she said, just in time for a yawn to escape.

“Let us walk you to your room.”

Shyla pointed out, “Chris, aren’t you on the other side of the hotel from me? Nah, you go to bed.”

Seb offered, “Hey, my room is near yours. I’ll make sure you get to your door safe & sound.”

They parted ways from Chris, who had to go an entirely different direction from the lobby. When they made it to Shyla’s door, Seb said, “Tonight was a lot of fun! But I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.”

She tried to play coy, “Oh, did you have something special going on tomorrow? It’s not your birthday, is it?”

“No, that’s Thursday, actually,” he confessed.

She grabbed the front of his shirt, “WHAT? Seb, you didn’t say anything! Now I’ve got to plan…shit, I can’t bake anything for you, I’ve got to…”

He cut her off with a kiss. He was smiling, he couldn’t help it: seeing her brain jump into action trying to make him happy, make sure he had a great birthday, it was impossible to resist. She melted into him, he put a hand around her waist to support her. When he finally pulled back, he managed “God, you’re cute.”

“What? What was that for?” she asked.

“Well, the bit about you being cute is because it’s true. The kiss was just…I’ve been wanting to do that for so long now, and I just couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

She just smiled up at him, and he failed to resist her one more time, giving her another kiss before freeing her go into her room. The last look she gave him, biting her lip a little as she closed the door was all he needed to ensure his dreams would be sweet.


	19. Seb's Turn

They’d been friends for months now, and Seb had never given up flirting with her, but now that they were on a date, he ramped it up. He used every excuse to touch her, get close to her, hold her even a little. Shyla made it clear she didn’t want any gossip columns saying she’d been seen making out with both men in the same weekend, so he had to keep it subtle when other people were around. But the second they had a moment’s privacy, she would feel his hand on her waist, or the tips of his fingers trailing up her arm, maybe a hand on her leg.

Towards the end of the day, he pulled the rental car into a scenic outlook. There was no one around, and the sun was setting. He hopped out of the car, opened her door for her, and guided her to a little bench. She sat down, crossing her legs, and he sat down as close to her as he could.

“The sunset is beautiful, Seb. Thank you for a lovely day.”

“Oh, is the sun setting? I hardly noticed,” he joked, blatantly staring at her, playing with her hair a little.

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of even acknowledging that lame line, so she just let it hang there as she sat, silently watching the sky change colors.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked. He seemed genuinely curious.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing! But before that, I was just thinking how beautiful it is here. What’s on your mind?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he put his hand on her cheek, gently turning her face towards him. She saw nothing but adoration written in every piece of his face, the only beauty he was taking in was her. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and they parted before she even realized she was moving to kiss him.

He felt his heart explode. _She_ kissed _him_ , not the other way around. It had been clear before that she was attracted to him, but this was the first time he really felt the full weight of her attraction. It was a challenge not to leap to his feet and shout in celebration, but the kissing provided adequate distraction. He didn’t even want to close his eyes, he wanted to watch her, confirm the reality of the situation. But he felt her arms move around him, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open any more, or they’d roll right out of his head from the excitement of it all. She held on to his shoulder and dug her fingers into his hair, causing him to involuntarily moan a little and smile.

“You’ve been wanting to do that for a while, haven’t you?” he asked.

“Probably for about as long as you’ve been wanting me to do that,” she conceded.

He pulled her in for another kiss, this time he was the one to deepen it, and started moving his hands on her body. God, everything about her was amazing: the way she felt, the way she smelled, the way she tasted. He pulled her onto his lap, and she gave a small yelp in surprise, but shortly sucked in a breath as he pulled her hair a little and started kissing down her throat. He smiled as she clutched at him, the same sensitive skin that made her so ticklish also made her so very responsive to his every touch.

He moved one hand up her thigh, under the hem of her dress, and she gasped, “Oh! Seb, we can’t…”

He laughed, his breath hot at her ear, “Just because I can’t fuck you like you deserve doesn’t mean I can’t touch you.” He moved his hand up higher, until his fingers brushed the lace of her panties. “Unless, you want me to stop?”

He lifted his hand for a moment, the cool evening air rushing up her dress and emphasizing the sudden absence. She let out a little gasping whine, “No, don’t stop,” and grabbed at his arm with some desperation. She needed him, and he reveled in it. Looking at her heavy-lidded eyes, her kiss-swollen lips, and knowing he was responsible for getting her in this state was a rush, and he needed more.

He slowly moved the lace aside, enjoying every moment of watching her squirm. “What is it you want, baby? Tell me.”

“I…I want…” she was losing her mind as he slowly teased her, just brushing his fingers lightly over her mound.

“Tell me, I want you to say it.”

“T…touch me.”

“And what do you want me to make you do? Say it, baby, and I’ll do it.”

“Fuck…I want you to make me come.”

“Want it? Or need it?”

“Need,” she moaned.

“Then say it.”

“I need you to make me come, Sebastian!”

And with her declaration, he plunged his fingers into her slit, and watched as she threw her head back. He teased her clit a little, and then his fingers dove deep inside her. He took his time, taking enormous pleasure in just watching her, seeing what moves got a better response than others. Finally, he settled into a steady pace, rubbing her clit with the base of his palm, while massaging her g-spot with a “come-hither” motion with his fingers. She tried to kiss him, but soon she had to focus what little remaining concentration she had left on just breathing. But that just meant he got to fully enjoy the view as she climaxed, grabbing at him with every muscle in her body, and then collapse against his chest, breathing heavily.

Her lashes fluttered as her eyes opened to watch his face, smiling down at her. She carded her fingers back into his hair, and pulled him in for another kiss, and breathed a “thank you” against his lips.

He withdrew his hand, and put his fingers in his mouth to get the taste of her as he sucked them clean. The guttural noise that rumbled through him made promises she knew he would keep, and sent a shiver down her spine as she watched the pleasure on his face.

She buried her face in his neck as he pulled her hem back down to its proper position, and he just held her. He contentedly listened as her breathing returned to a more normal pace. Eventually, he felt her shiver a little, and it finally sunk in how cold it had gotten as night descended. She stirred a little, but before she could say anything he adjusted his hold on her and lifted her easily in his arms, carrying her back to the car. She laughed, and admonished him to put her down. He did, but only after they were already at the car, when he realized he’d have trouble opening the door and placing her inside. So he put her down, but brought her in for one more kiss as he opened the door. When she slid her down his body to get into the car, it gave an air of promise for future dates.

After he shut the door behind her, he practically skipped to his side of the car. He settled into his seat, but didn’t start the car just yet. He just wanted to look at her for a moment more, the slight flush still on her cheeks, visible even in the moonlight. She turned towards him, smiling, and asked “What?”

“You’re trouble, Riddle.”

“Mmm, I was just about to say the same about you, Stan,” she reached over and tucked a hair behind his ear, letting her hand linger on his cheek for a moment before sitting back and buckling herself in.

After they made it back to the hotel, Sebastian walked her to her room. She turned to him, reaching up to plunge both hands into his hair, running her nails along his scalp. He backed her up against the door, and, taking her arms from around his neck, he pinned her wrists over her head, and ran a hand down her side. “Are you going to invite me in?”

“I don’t know about that. I don’t think I trust either of us enough.”

“After seeing you come like that, it is my life’s mission to see that sight as many times as I can. But I can keep my pants on for tonight, if it makes it any easier.”

“Well, that’s the problem, I don’t know if it does make it any easier,” she admitted. He let his free hand roam a little longer over her body, watching her as she reacted to each caress. “Good night, Sebastian.” She freed her wrists from his grip, and turned against him, so he pressed into her backside and buried his face in her hair. She pulled out her key card, and soon had disappeared behind the door.

He wanted to just moan right there in the hall. All he could do was lean against the door, trying to hold on as her scent lingered in her wake. She was going to be the death of him.


	20. Chris' Turn

She slept in the next day, head full of very delightful dreams, making it hard to pull herself out of bed. She made herself a cup of tea, and then looked out her window, trying to hold on to this peaceful feeling as long as she could. She went through her getting ready routine, and she could feel the nervous butterflies start to rise in her stomach. Yesterday with Seb had been amazing, and the finish…her toes curled a little just thinking about it. And now she was going to spend the day with Chris? Was she insane? Well, if she spent the day with Chris and all she could think about was Seb, that was a pretty clear answer there. But what if she didn’t? She knew the power of Chris’ attention even just as a friend, it was enough to make you feel a little tipsy. And she’d always wanted him this way. After she got out of the shower, she decided she shouldn’t bother ordering breakfast, the anxiety of the whole situation was already putting her stomach in peril. She threw on a sun dress, did her makeup. She pinned her hair up for now, still unsure what the best choice would be, as she had no idea what they were going to be doing.

She decided to read to take her mind off things. But, earlier than she’d anticipated, there was a knock at her door. Confused, she looked through the peep hole, and saw Chris standing there with a bag thrown over his shoulder. “Lemme in, Riddle! No time to waste!”

She opened the door, “You’re early, Evans.”

“Technically, I said we’d meet at noon in the lobby. This part is prep,” he entered her room without really asking. “You can wear the sandals,” he said, looking at her shoe options, “Or the sneakers.” He continued moving through her room, towards the dresser. “Turn around!”

“What are you doing?” she laughed.

“There are a couple things you might want to have with you on our adventure, but if I tell you it’ll ruin the surprise. So turn around, and no peeking.”

She could hear him rifling through her drawers. “If this is an elaborate excuse for a panty raid, you’re too old for that shit.”

“Give me some credit. Although good to know you keep a balance of lacy and more practical.” He heard her start to turn and object, and he chided “I said no peeking!” After a couple more drawer opening/closings, he announced “Okay, I’m done.”

When she turned towards him, he’d already come up right behind her, so she was at eye level with his chest. She looked up at him, and he leaned down and kissed her. She could feel the excitement crackling off him, it was contagious, she felt her skin tingle all over. And god, his lips were amazing. When he finally stepped back, smiling at her, she said “Well that’s an unusual way to prep for a first date.”

“Well, this isn’t really our first date.”

“How do you figure?”

“We’ve been dating for a year now, we just didn’t know it.”

“Oh really? That’s funny, because I remember a lot of talk about being friends, things like that.”

“Yeah, but that just means we can skip right past the first date. No awkward small talk, none of that getting-to-know-you stuff.”

“True. So then what is this date?”

“This date is still a surprise. You won’t get it out of me that easily.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying!”

When he stopped the car, she was sure he must be lost. They were well and truly in the middle of nowhere. They were on what could at best be called a dirt road between a vineyard and forest, and he didn’t even really pull off to the side of the road when he stopped. “Okay, now the adventure begins!” He grabbed the backpack and leapt out, running over to open the door for her. He was like a golden retriever, bounding around in his excitement.

She looked around, and saw something that vaguely looked like a trail. “Chris, I don’t know if I can climb in these sandals, I should have worn the sneakers!”

“It’s not as rough as it looks, and we aren’t going very far. But if it’s too hard, I will happily carry you.”

“Well, I don’t know if we need to get that dramatic, but I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

He took her hand and lead her up the path. They chatted, and he’d been right, it didn’t feel like a first date. After a walk, they came upon a clearing with a small waterfall. She was so taken with the bucolic scene, until Chris gestured with a “Ta-da” she didn’t notice the amazing picnic he’d set up.

She gasped, and raised her hand to her mouth, “Chris! I’m speechless, this is perfect!” She looked up at him, his eyes sparkling with excitement. She lifted herself up on the tips of her toes and pulled the front of his shirt until she could kiss him. And now she felt that first-date feeling: she never wanted the kiss to end, even if she felt like she was going to soon forget how to breathe.

When they broke the kiss, she pressed her face into his chest, head spinning a little bit. Chris let out a little “wow” and held her to him, kissing the top of her head. “I should’ve made you a picnic ages ago!”

“Well, we’re here now! What did you bring?” she asked, and he showed her the food & drinks. “But…why did you have to go rifling through my drawers this morning?”

“Well, I wanted to give you some options. So I grabbed you a swimsuit, in case you wanted to go for a dip. I also got your kindle, so we could just sit & read together.”

“You, sir, are incredibly thoughtful. This is amazing! I’m kind of starving, shall we start with food?”

“Great, take a seat, I’ll take care of everything!” He pulled out the fare, and she noticed he’d been paying attention. Every single thing was something she loved, she couldn’t have put together something more perfect basket herself. They ate, and chatted, plus some kissing and feeding each other. When they were both full, the collapsed next to each other on the blanket. She curled up against his side, and they both briefly fell asleep.

When she woke up, she looked right into his blue eyes. “Sorry to be a creeper,” he apologized, “but you’re even gorgeous when you sleep, and it’s just not fair.” It was a dopey line, but she kissed him for it anyway. He rolled to face her, and they shared slow kisses in the lazy afternoon heat. She wrapped a leg around his hip, and he rested a hand on her knee. He was being very respectful and thoughtful, and she loved him for it. After putting him off for so long, she wouldn’t blame him if he was a little pushy, but he was almost being too nice. Well, she didn’t have a problem being more direct. She nudged him onto his back, and rolled on top of him. His contented smile got that spark of excitement back into it, and she heard a little growling sound from the back of his throat as his hands started to move over her thighs and back. Things started to get a little more passionate, he still didn’t push any boundaries, but the heat of their kisses intensified. She found her hips grinding into his, and his rising to meet the rhythm she set.

Finally, she reared back, chest heaving a little. “Well, that was getting a little…”

Chris sat up, with her now in his lap. “Intense? Hot?”

“All of the above!”

“Want to cool off a little?”

“We can do that. Is the water deep?”

“No, not really. But I’ll keep you safe, and if you want to get out, we’ll get out, no sweat.”

“I trust you,” she kissed him again, and got up, offering him a hand to pull him to his feet.

He squeezed her hand, then went to grab the backpack. He handed her bikini over and pulled out his shorts. “I won’t peek, I’ll change over here. Give me a shout when you’re ready.”

It didn’t take a lot to get changed, she shimmied out of her panties and into the bikini bottoms. She shucked her dress, and as she was getting the top ready to pull on, she looked over her shoulder, and saw that he was pulling up his shorts, and stood waiting for her, back still towards her. She almost laughed, “I gotta ask…what’s with the sudden modesty?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…we’ve seen each other on set, I’m pretty sure you’ve seen my tits out changing costumes or in makeup. And before that, when you first showed in Atlanta, you stormed in, ready to move on me.”

“Are you naked right now?”

“No, I’m decent.”

“Okay,” he turned to face her, closing the distance between them. “You don’t realize how incredibly special you are, or how much you mean to me. I will go as slow as I have to go, I will give you as much distance as you need, whatever it takes. I respect you, and I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, not a second before you’re ready. I definitely want more, I want to explore every inch of you and fuck you until our brains leak out of our ears. But for now, I will be patient. Even if you are incredibly hot in a bikini.”

She studied his face. He was so damned sincere. She pulled him in for another kiss, her hands roving more. “You might be taking this method acting thing a little too seriously, you’re going to turn into Cap if you’re not careful.” Her hand lingered at his hip, lightly touching the skin above the waistband of his trunks.

“Careful yourself, Shy…” he warned, wrapping a hand around the nape of her neck. They looked each other in the eye for a second, breathing the same air, before their bodies crashed into each other. Their need overflowed. In their swimsuits, there was much more skin contact, very little separated them. And the way she gripped the waistband of his shorts meant there soon could be even less keeping them apart. She made a little noise of frustration before moving her hand, but he didn’t release her, so she wrapped her arms around him. He lifted her up and laid her down on the blanket, the soft grass beneath cushioning them. He moved himself over her, positioning himself between her thighs. When she pulled him in for more kisses she could feel his hardness against her. She moaned into his mouth, he gripped her harder and she almost cried out.

“Shy, we can’t…” he breathed.

“Chris, just…we don’t have to, but there are…other things…” her hand moved to her neck as she untied her halter.

He propped himself on his elbow, sliding the straps down. “Fuck, Shy…”

“Just…touch me,” she pleaded.

His head plunged to her breasts, trying to take as much into his hands and mouth as he could fit. She ran her fingers through his hair, trying not to smother him in her breasts, but just needing to feel as close to him as possible. She couldn’t stop herself from pushing her hips into him.

“You’re killing me, Shy,” he grabbed her hip and kissed down her stomach.

“Chris…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Fuck no,” she breathed.

He nearly tore her bottoms off, but just sat for a moment, looking at her, taking her in, before licking his beautiful lips and lowering his mouth to her. He watched from under his long lashes as her back arched, thrusting her tits in the air, and listened to her gasp. God, she was so sweet, sweeter than he’d imagined. He wished he had more hands, he wanted to touch her everywhere. As a compromise, he wrapped one arm under her leg and up to her breast, and used the fingers of his other hand to spread her open, lapping at her. She wrapped her thighs around his head and clutched at his hair, he smiled at the signs of her pleasure. He redoubled his efforts, felt one of her hands disappear from his head as she grabbed blindly at the blanket, bracing herself. It wasn’t long before she was bucking under him, and he could hear her cries even though his ears were muffled. When she relaxed back into the blanket, he kissed the inside of her thigh, wiped his face off, and crawled back up her body.

“ _Chris_ ,” she sighed, “that was…you’re amazing. Thank you.”

“Mmm, I was just gonna say the same thing about you, gorgeous,” he ginned down at her. “Still in the mood for a swim?”

She laughed, “I don’t think I can move! I certainly can’t swim, I’d cramp up and die!”

“Well, the pond isn’t deep, I’m pretty sure I can touch the bottom the whole way.”

“You know you are substantially taller than me, right?”

“You know, for a smart girl, you can really miss the point sometimes,” he booped her nose, and lifted himself up. He picked up her discarded swim bottoms, “You still want these?”

She sat up and snatched them from his hand, “Look at you, all smug!”

“Hey now, you better choose what you want to do with those, because you’re about to go in the water.”

“What?” she laughed, pulling the bottoms on.

He offered a hand to pull her up, and she took it. But once she was on her feet, she barely had time to gain her balance before Chris tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her towards the pond. She squealed, laughing and playfully hitting at his back, but he was relentless. He waded in up to his hips before letting her slide down his front. He held her to his chest as he walked deeper into the water, “See, you never have to touch the bottom!” He moved his hand to her back and untied the band of her top, sliding it off between them and tossing it to the shore. Then he pulled he pin out of her hair and threw it, managing to land it next to her top without even looking.

She wrapped herself around him, sinking her fingers into his hair and just looking at him.

“What?” he asked, grinning.

“Just…you,” she grinned back, smoothing the hair at the nape of his neck.

“What about me?”

She laid her head on his shoulder, nuzzled his neck. She gasped a little when the water reached her breasts, pressing closer into him. “You’re too good to me.”

She could feel his chest move as he chuckled. “Not good enough.”

“Don’t say that.”

“What? It’s true.”

She pulled back to look at him, he was smiling, but it looked more than a touch sardonic around his eyes. “No, it’s not. You’ve been so good to me, I…”

“You what, Shy?”

She couldn’t stand to hear him be self-deprecating like that, but all she could do was shut him up with a kiss. “If I say you’re too good, you’re too good.” She just kept holding onto him, kissing him, hoping to convince him.


	21. Chris Continued

Shyla and Chris spent the afternoon lounging, swimming, reading, talking, and, of course, making out. Eventually she heard Chris’ stomach growl, and she suggested they head back to civilization. Chris hadn’t planned anything for dinner specifically, but gave her a few options. When they got to her preferred dinner option, it wasn’t open, they had a private party going. When he saw her disappointment, he said “Hold on, just a second.”

He came out a few moments later with a menu: he’d talked them into letting him do takeaway. They decided what they wanted, and leaned on the exterior of the building, talking until a staff member brought it out. Lacking anyplace better to go, they took it back to the hotel, and got settled in Shyla’s room. She didn’t think she’d ever had such amazing takeout, duck confit with cherries and a sweet potato mash, beautiful crusty bread and fresh butter, and, of course, a lovely chocolate dessert.

They were enjoying their meal and conversation, when there was a knock at the door. She took the napkin off her lap and bounced up to answer it. Seb was leaning against the door jamb.

“Hey Shyla, I thought I’d come by and…oh, hey Chris.”

“Hey Seb. We were just having dinner. Did you need something?” Shyla asked.

He lowered his voice, so it didn’t carry. “So you couldn’t trust yourself with me in your room last night, but Chris is fine? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Chris started to get off the couch “Everything okay, Shy?”

She stopped him, “It’s fine Chris, gimme a second.” She put a hand on Seb’s just and gently but firmly pushed him out into the hallway, shutting the door behind her. “What the fuck, Seb? That is _none_ of your business. Why did you come by?”

“I figured your date would be done by now, I thought I’d check on you, see if you wanted to…hang out.”

“‘Check on me’? Seb, come on. Not cool.”

“Hey, I didn’t know that you’d invited him back to your room. And you’re the one that made the ‘no sex on the first date’ rule.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m not fucking Chris. This jealous look is not good, Seb.”

“Hey, I’m not jealous. I just…I thought you would be done by now, and we could hang out. I can leave you alone.”

She gave him a look. “This isn’t my fault, Seb. You know that.”

He raised his hand, ran the back of his knuckles down her cheek. “I know, _draga mea_. Can I see you tomorrow? After we finish filming?”

She looked up at him with a sassy expression, arms still crossed, “ _If_ you can act like a grown-up tomorrow, I think we can make that happen. But that’s a big ‘if.’”

“I think I can live up to that standard. Can I kiss you?” he cupped her face hopefully.

“Don’t push your luck, bucko,” she replied, but she was smiling and she poked him on the chest playfully.

“Okay, point made. I’ll suffer my punishment. I’ll just look forward to tomorrow, _draga mea_.”

“Good night, Seb.”

He dropped his hand and she pulled the key card out of her pocket, and let herself back into the room.

“Everything okay?” Chris asked as soon as she got back through the door. He looked tense, but like he was trying to hide it.

“Everything’s fine. Seb just wanted to hang out. I said we could hang out tomorrow.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t sound fine. Do you want me to talk to Seb?”

“No, truly Chris. I’ll be fine. This whole thing is a mindfuck,” she took a deep breath, and then reached for his hand. “I just want to finish my dinner and enjoy the rest of our date.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” he smiled at her.

When they’d finished, they faced each other on the couch. Full, a little sleepy, and very content. He pulled her against his chest as he lay back on the couch, wrapping his arms around her, and they just cuddled.

“Mmm…I can hear your heart.”

“What’s it saying?”

“Blub-blub.”

“I think that’s ‘Shy-la’ that it’s saying.”

“That was so cheesy! Did you even hear yourself?”

“Yeah, that was pretty bad, huh? Well, it’s true, even if it is cheesy.”

She looked up at him, “You look exhausted! We have an early call tomorrow, I should let you go to bed.”

“Noooo…but I’m so comfy right here!”

“You can’t possibly be comfy! This couch would kill your back, you’ll be miserable tomorrow,” she insisted, and he just grunted in response. “Okay, at least come to the bed, if you can’t make it all the way to your room.”

“Really? You sure?”

“You seem too exhausted to even think frisky thoughts! I can put on a movie or something, but I’d bet you’d be asleep before the title.”

“I’ll take that bet. What do I get if I win?”

“I’ll give you a kiss.”

“Alright, what do you get if you win?”

“You give me a kiss.”

“You are an excellent gambler! Okay, to the bed we go,” he agreed, releasing her, and taking her proffered hand as she led him to the bed.

“I hate to ask, but do you mind if I get a little more comfortable? These jeans aren’t really…”

“Please do, I’m going to change, be right back.” She grabbed some comfy clothes, and changed in the bathroom, after quickly brushing her teeth.

“Cute jammies,” he said when she came out in a loose tee and some short-shorts. He was stripped down to his boxers.

“I’d say the same, but…”

“Well, normally I sleep in the nude, but I figured if you didn’t…”

“Normally I do too, but it didn’t seem like a good way to follow my own rules,” she hopped into bed next to him, and curled up to his side, using the remote to find something to watch. She really could have picked anything, but she found a movie from the 80s she knew he liked.

“This seems like cheating, the title doesn’t come for ages in this movie.”

“You’re the one who said I’m an excellent gambler!” She hit play, and cuddled up. It was hard to resist stroking the skin of his chest, but she was very competitive, even if the bet was fairly win/win, and she didn’t want to keep him awake. As soon as the title came on the screen, she looked up at him. His eyes were wide open, looking back down at her. “Dammit!” she cursed.

“Well, I would like to collect my winnings now, if I may?”

She pulled herself up and looked at him. It crossed her mind that if she stayed with him, she’d have to get used to kissing him with a beard, as that was his preferred state. And a cascade of images rushed through her mind as she lowered her lips to his: imagining what it would be like to come home to him after a long day at work. To have him pick her up at the airport. To walk Dodger together, holding hands. To sleep next to him every night.

Before she even thought about it, she was on her back, Chris’ fingers entwining in hers and her legs wrapped around him. It was so easy to be with him, so natural. Feeling his body pressing hers into the mattress felt so right. But as his kisses moved to her neck, her gasp made reality hit home. “Chris, we can’t…”

“It can be like the picnic, if that’s what you want?”

“No, I just…I don’t think I can stop it there. Not this time. I can’t.”

He leaned down and kissed her gently, and rolled off her. “Alright. Do you really want to watch the movie?” There wasn’t a hint of passive-aggressiveness or disappointment in his voice. Just understanding.

“Not really…” she confessed, and he turned the TV off.

“Do you want to go to sleep?”

God, she was hot for him before, but when he respected her boundaries without protest? Holy shit. “If I’m being totally honest, I want to tear both our clothes off and find a condom. But I said no sex, and I want to be a woman of my word. ‘Cause I’m an idiot.”

“We can kiss a little more, keep it PG?” he offered.

“Well, you’re in your boxers, that might make it PG-13 right there. But we can try!”

They rolled onto their sides, facing each other, and tangled their arms around each other. Their kisses were slow, sleepy, and sweet as honey. She threw a leg over him and their legs entwined as well, but that was as far past PG as it got: he remained every inch the respectful gentleman, even if his body still gave off clear signals that he wanted her clothes to disappear just as much as she did. When they finally came up for air, she tried to look at his face from under her droopy eyelids. It was his turn to point out “You’re just about to fall asleep. I can’t have you fall asleep while we make out, my pride can’t take it. Goodnight, Shy.”

“Sweet dreams, Chris.”

“The sweetest,” he agreed, nodding off almost the moment the words left his mouth.


	22. Tease

The alarm on her phone went off far too early. She untangled their limbs to turn off the offending noise. When she settled back in his arms, he said “Morning, sunshine,” in tones that sounded a little too chipper given the hour. He kissed her forehead as she tried to bury her face in his chest. “You know we do have to get up, get going, right?”

“No. I want to stay in bed forever,” she grumbled.

“Me too, I don’t think I’ve slept so well in ages. But we both need showers, or the makeup artists are going to be very grossed out.”

“I know, I know. But, counterargument: sleep.”

“You make a strong case. However…” he bent and kissed her neck, and started running his hand under her shirt.

She gasped, “That’s not exactly motivating me to get out of bed,” she said, automatically running her fingers into his hair.

He chuckled into her shoulder, “Well, I could get you into the shower, but I don’t know if we have quite enough time before we’re supposed to meet the driver…”

“Mmm…that’s awfully tempting. But I’d hate to make you miss breakfast.” She kissed him on the top of his head, “Much though I hate to say it, you should probably get back to your room for your shower.”

He reluctantly agreed, and gave her a kiss on the forehead before rising to gather his things, get dressed. She watched him, biting her lip. He’d be a gorgeous man no matter what his body looked like, but there was still something so entrancing watching the muscles move under his skin. He sat on the edge of the bed, and she got on her knees to hug him from behind, leaning on his strong back. He held her forearms in place at his neck, lowering his lips to them.

“Now who’s making it difficult to leave the bed?” Chris asked.

She started kissing his neck, “You catch on quick.”

“I’m just going to have to be content with imagining getting to sleep in late with you, after staying up late.”

“Oh my, what would we be doing staying up late? Watching movies? Reading?” she grinned wickedly, even though he couldn’t see her, and nipped at his ear.

He reached behind him and pulled her around and into his lap, kissing her passionately. “If that’s all you want to stay up late with me doing, maybe I haven’t made my intentions clear.”

She looked at him with an expression of faux-shock, “ _You_ have _intentions_?”

“I intend to explore every inch of you. I intend to see how many times you can come in one night. And I intend to hear my name on your lips when you do.” A little shiver of delight ran through her hearing him talk like that. His respectful attitude had been enormously arousing, and there had been no doubt their physical chemistry was amazing. But they’d spent so much time as friends, she was still getting used to him thinking of her as anything else. Him saying what he wanted to do to her…not easy to turn down. He continued, “As soon as you’re ready, Shy. Just say the word.”

She was speechless. Part of her very badly wanted to say the word right now. She just kissed him, morning breath and all. And then willed herself to stand. “Well, enticing though they are, those intentions are better left for a day we’re not due on set.”

He took her hand as he stood. “Very true,” he agreed, smiling down at her, encouraged by the effect his words had on her. “We’ll need all day.”

The time on-set went not terribly different from most days of filming. It was a part of a fight sequence and chase scene, so there was a lot of waiting around while things were set up. Seb and Chris were both flirty when they could get a moment with Shyla, but did their best not to do anything that would set the crew to gossiping. So they were limited to whispered innuendos, a few fleeting touches.

The last takes were just Sebastian, so Chris and Shyla went to the trailers to get changed and wait for their ride. It took an extra long time for the hair people to get her out of the wig, then she went to change back into her clothes in her trailer. She’d hardly been in a moment when there was a knock at the door. She wondered if Seb had wrapped quickly, but it was Chris. She let him in, “Hey Chris, what’s up?”

“I thought I’d see if you were free for dinner,” he ventured. She cringed a little, and he guessed, “Seb beat me to it?”

“Yeah.”

“He seems to do that a lot. I should’ve guessed. Alright, what about every night for the rest of the week?”

“Well, that hardly seems fair! How about every other night. You get Tuesday and Thursday…wait, that’s Seb’s birthday!”

He tried to keep the whine out of his voice, “Then Seb gets Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday?”

“You get Tuesday and Wednesday, Friday I’ll either hang out with both of you or ditch you both, depending.”

“We don’t have much longer, Shy. We’re leaving soon. And then…”

“I know, Chris. Trust me, I know.”

He closed the distance between them, and cupped her face, wanting to say something but not knowing what else to say. He started to lean in for a kiss when there was a knock at the door, and Seb shouting “Ready, Shyla?”

She gave Chris’ hand a small kiss, and then stepped away with a “Come on in, I haven’t changed yet.”

The door swung open, and Seb started “Well, then I got here just in…oh. Hey, Chris.” His face fell when, instead of seeing Shyla half-clad, he saw his competition in her trailer.

“Hey, man. Just making plans with Shyla for tomorrow and Thursday. Guess I should…”

“Well, we’ll still ride together. Unless you had other plans, Seb.”

“No, I figured we could go back to the hotel.”

“Okay, well, I still need to get changed. I’ll just head back to the bathroom,” she said, grabbing her things. She’d hoped that they would talk while she was gone, she expected to hear their banter while she changed. Dead silence. It broke her heart, these two were so close before she came on the scene. When she finished, she kind of hoped they were making out, some other excuse for their stoic silence. But when she opened the door, she saw that Chris had already left.

Seb moved to her, had her in his arms in a heartbeat. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

She gave herself a mental shake, “Walk across my trailer?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

“Well, more this part,” he lowered his lips to hers.

When he raised his head to look at her, she responded simply, “I’m sorry, what part? I must’ve missed it.”

He kissed her again, more thoroughly this time, pulling her hips to him. “Did you miss it that time?”

“No, I think I got it,” she smiled. “So, what were the plans for tonight?”

“I still think you might have missed my point…”

He started to lean in for another kiss, but she dodged him. “No, I meant, like…dinner? Or is your metabolism so advanced that you could just subsist of make-outs alone?”

“I’d sure like to try!”

“Well, good for you! But _I_ need food!”

“Fine, spoilsport. Room service back at the hotel?” he raised his eyebrow.

She smirked, “My, aren’t we in a presumptuous mood tonight?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘presumptuous’, maybe ‘optimistic’…sex was off the table for the first date. And, I don’t know if you remember, but I ended that night with a new life’s mission…”

“What if I just wanted to hang out?” she tested.

“Is that what you want?” he looked skeptical.

“It might be. Answer the question.”

“Well, then we’d just hang out. I’m not trying to get anything out of you tonight, if we’re not on the same page we can just watch a movie or something.”

“Good to know. Well, let’s not keep anyone waiting. We can decide how to spend the evening when we make it back to the hotel.”

He pulled her in for another kiss, running his thumb along her hipbone. “We can start here…”

“No, Chris and the driver will be waiting. Let’s go, tiger,” she joked, sliding around him.

She sat up front with the driver, despite Seb’s efforts to share the backseat with her. When they got back to the hotel, Shyla got a head start back to her room, as Chris had gotten Seb wrapped up in a conversation. But she heard his feet pounding down the hall before she could make it to her door.

“Are you trying to hide?” he asked, catching up to her.

She played coy, “Why whatever do you mean?”

“Well, if you don’t want to hang out…”

“It’s hardly like you don’t know how to find me. If I wanted to hide, I certainly wouldn’t make it this easy for you. So, what are we going to do when we ‘hang out’?”

She was at her door, and he came up behind her and started kissing her neck. “Do you really not know what I want to do with you?”

“Do you really have no plans to even _attempt_ to romance me? You just think that you get to pass Go and collect your $200?” She got the door open and stepped inside, out of his grasp. She stood in the doorway, barring his entry, but smiling cheekily at him.

“I wouldn’t put it that way! I can be very romantic!”

“You just want to be naked while you’re romantic?”

“Exactly!”

“Well, I am in a beautiful French village, I’m not wasting a night on room service! You’re welcome to come with me, otherwise I’ll see you when I get back, maybe we can watch a movie.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. You deserve something a little more romantic. You’ve just got me some kind of way, Shyla. Forgive me, _draga mea_?” he even managed to keep his hands to himself while he said it.

“I forgive you. I want to change, do you want to meet in the lobby?”

“I don’t have anywhere to be but with you.” He bit his lip a little. Gods, this man…

“Well, come on in then,” she let him in, and started bustling around, putting her things down and getting things out to change into.

“What are you gonna wear?” he asked. She held up her dress, and he followed up, “Do I get a show?”

“And what makes you think you deserve something like that?”

“If Saturday wasn’t enough, I’ll do whatever it takes tonight,” he dropped to his knees in front of her, took her hand. “I beg of you, please, just a quick look? _Draga mea_?”

She gently put her bare foot on his chest and playfully shoved him onto his backside. “I expect big things, mister…” she took a couple steps back from him, to stay out of his reach. She was wearing a long tee with the front tucked into a pair of shorts, and she started with her fly. She shimmied out of her shorts, kicking them at him. He just sat back, grinning broadly, transfixed. She played with the hem of her shirt, teasing him a little. He leaned forward, he started to prowl towards her, she put her foot on his shoulder and kicked him back again, laughing and skipping further away as he tried to grab at her. “You asked for a look, not a touch!” she admonished him. He conceded defeat, hands in the air. When she was content that he would stay there, she pivoted, turning her back to him, wrapping her arms around her waist, inching her shirt up before pulling it over her head. She could hear him squirm behind her, and then chuckle when she bent to pick her dress up from the floor. She pulled it over her head, turned back to him as it settled over her hips, and asked “So, where are we going for dinner?”

He rolled flat on his back, running his hands through his hair and letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, chuckling, “You’re going to be the death of me. This is how I die.”

“Oh, you’re so dramatic. And I’m hungry. I’ll be back in a moment, and you better have dinner ideas,” she threatened as she walked to the bathroom.

When she came back out, she asked “Well?”

He was still on his back on the floor, but he held his phone in the air, “How ‘bout here?”

She came over to take his phone. As she examined his selection, she felt his hand move up her calf. “Looks great!”

“You look great,” he said, his hand moving up past her knee, brushing at the hem of her dress. “Come here.”

“On the _floor_?”

“Do you have to argue with everything?”

“I agreed with your restaurant choice,” she argued, but she knelt next to him.

Propping himself up, he wrapped a hand around her nape, “You make me crazy,” he breathed, lips already at hers. She smiled as he kissed her, and didn’t fight him when he pulled her down on top of him. Molding her body to his side, sliding her leg over his, enjoying the warmth radiating off him. It was hard not to wonder: with kisses like this, what else could his talented mouth do? She considered straddling him, but she could hear her stomach object to the delays, despite his hand moving up her thigh.

She thumped him on the chest, “You have the most one-track mind I’ve ever seen!”

“Guilty.”

“Seb, if I don’t eat, I will pass out, and I will be _much_ less fun.”

“Well, if you put it that way,” he popped to his feet, and offered his hand to pull her up. He gathered her to him, “And if you’re absolutely sure that room service won’t do…”

“I’m going to start walking out that door right now…”

“Asked and answered. Let’s roll.”

Shyla and Seb made it to the restaurant, but it didn’t go exactly as Seb planned. They didn’t just get a quick bite and then race back to her room. They just…talked. They stayed at the restaurant until it closed. Now that neither had to be concerned with being too flirty or crossing that particular boundary, their conversation became even easier. The ribald jokes, the crazy schemes, the intrusive questions, anything they’d been holding back on over the months came out now. Neither realized how long they’d been at it until the waitstaff started turning chairs onto the tables for the night.

They walked back to the hotel, holding hands under the cover of darkness. It was late on a Monday, just the moon and an occasional streetlight to guide their way back to the hotel, and they took their time, still deep in conversation, likely angering the residents of every house they passed with their laughter.

When they got back to her room, she was ready to invite him in. She mostly wanted to keep the connection going, whether that was more conversation, or just in the bed, or somewhere in-between. But he stopped at the threshold.

“Shyla…I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I should probably let you get to bed.”

She stepped towards him, toying with the zipper on his jacket, “You sure?”

“No, I definitely am not. But we’re already exhausted, and it’s going to be hard enough to function on-set tomorrow,” he pulled her in for a hug. But then his hand went up to her hair, and he tilted her head so he could whisper in her ear, “And I need more energy than I’ve got if I’m going to see you come over and over again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh...I had everything up to this point written, and I have half dozen endings, but not how to get to them! But there will be smut incoming, trust me!


	23. Lost in the Moment with Chris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut incoming!

When she woke, there was already a text from Chris waiting for her. He told her they could go straight from the set to dinner, and gave her three different restaurants to choose from. And, smart, thoughtful man that he was, he laid out the high points for each. Dishes he knew she’d like, or other features or facts she’d be interested in. No surprises this time.

She wrapped before he and Seb did, so she waited outside Chris’ trailer. Since she had been warned in advance, she was dressed for a date: a nicer dress, strappy high heels, makeup and hair done instead of whatever could be salvaged after the wig was removed. Chris and Seb saw her at the same time, both smiling, Seb giving a whistle.

Chris grinned, “Well hey, Shy…”

Seb raised his eyebrows, “Not fair!”

She returned, “Well this is what you get when you plan! But, Thursday is your birthday, and you get a planning free pass, so you should just look forward to that.”

“Oh, I will. Behave yourselves, you two,” Seb chided before disappearing in his trailer.

Chris let her into his trailer, “Just give me a moment to wash off the makeup, and we’re good to go.”

“Take all the time you need. Especially if your shirt is off!”

“Oh, is that why you came creeping around my trailer?”

“Absolutely! Why else?” her eyes sparkled with mischief.

He obliged, stripping his shirt off. She walked over to him, circling him, trailing her hand along him. He just focused on the point of contact, feeling the tension in his body from trying to resist reaching for her. She walked slowly, and when she made it back around to his front, her hands continued their journey up his chest.

“I’m trying to think if I’ve ever seen you in heels when we aren’t in costume.”

“Maybe once or twice, I don’t wear them often,” she explained, fingers still tracing along him, moving up to his neck. “I thought it might save your neck a little if I was a bit closer.”

He couldn’t resist the temptation any longer, he splayed his hands over her back. “Very considerate. But you won’t hear me complaining. I like you just the way you are,” he kissed her, then finished, “Even if you are short as hell.”

“Hey now! Your back is just going to have to suffer next time!”

“As long as you keep kissing me, it’s worth it,” he reasoned, and she pulled him in for a kiss.

“Do we have a reservation to make, or…?”

He put his hands on her hips, backing her up into the makeup counter. “No reservation, we have all the time in the world.” He lifted her, sitting her on the counter.

“Well, then,” she picked up the container of makeup wipes, pulled one out. She held his jaw in one hand, tilting his face so she could wipe at the makeup. He’d been in Cap’s cowl for today’s scenes, so much of it was focused around his eyes and she didn’t want to hurt him. But she gently wiped at his brow, down his temple, under his eyes.

When she reached the limit of what she could reasonably do for him, he took the wipe from her, and kissed her in earnest. She arched into his bare chest, he could feel a small moan roll through her. He smiled, and raised a hand, running his thumb over her pulse. He squeezed her, and her head dropped back, “Oh, Chris,” she sighed.

He could never get enough of hearing his name on her lips. He kissed the underside of her chin, “God, you’re gorgeous.”

She laughed, tickled either by his words or his lips, bracing her hands behind her on the counter. “You’re trouble, mister.”

“You’re the one asking me to take my clothes off,” he pointed out, trailing kisses and caresses along her neck and jaw.

She gasped, “I did no such thing! I merely suggested that it would make the wait easier.”

“Has it?”

“Well, more enjoyable, if not easier,” she admitted. She was getting ready to pull him back in, when she heard his stomach growl. “But, I suppose, we probably should go have that dinner.”

He sighed, and nodded. He grabbed another wipe and started swiping at his eyes. She pulled him in and wrapped her arms around his waist, just resting her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, periodically kissing the top of her head as he finished. When he tossed the wipe in the trash bin, he held her for a moment. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked himself.

“For now, just hold me.”

He squeezed her a little tighter, “For now? That’s all I’d do for the rest of my life if I could.”

She held that in her mind for a moment, rolling it around, testing it. He’d told her a few times he loved her. She wasn’t ready for such a huge declaration yet. She did love him, in at least some way, but it was such a tangled mess of feelings, she couldn’t sort through it yet. But hearing him say he wanted to hold her for the rest of his life…that wasn’t just a friendly love. That wasn’t the wishes of a naïve young man. Finally, she responded “Eating would get pretty messy,” trying to lighten the moment with a joke.

He tipped her face up. He could tell what she was doing, but he wanted to look into her eyes, try to see what she was thinking. It was clear this wasn’t a simple blow-off, but he couldn’t tell exactly what was going through her head. He planted a kiss on her forehead, and released her, taking a step back and offering a hand to help her hop down from the counter. She took it and helped him find his shirt.

They talked for ages. A lot of pontificating about things. Chris had always been very interested in philosophy, and trying to find answers to big questions, but her perspective was so different. She knew a lot about the brain and how it worked, so her take on things was fascinating. They were long past getting-to-know-yous, and had spent plenty of time joking and teasing each other, just being meatballs. But when their communication was limited to video calls and texts, or joking around on-set, it didn’t exactly facilitate the same kind of discussion as sitting over a beautiful French meal that was intended to be savored. He had always known she was smart, that much was plain from the start. But it was amazing to watch her truly put her mind to work, see the gears turning as she tried to work out how to distill a complicated scientific finding into something he could not just understand, but turn over in his own mind and use it to inform his own thoughts. And he didn’t feel stupider for it, either. She didn’t make him feel the least bit insecure about anything, she made him feel better about himself. Like he really was her intellectual equal, even without the degrees and without the same depth or breadth of knowledge. She made him feel secure that his thought processes were just as capable, all he needed to do was keep digging and learning. He would never cease to be amazed by her.

When they got back to the hotel, she invited him to her room. They were both a little tipsy, and the conversation had turned less deep, talking about half-remembered things they loved in childhood. It was still relative early when they stumbled in, and she kicked off her shoes. “Well, they were a nice thought. But an uncomfortable nice thought.”

“All your thoughts are nice.”

“Definitely gonna have to disagree with you on that.”

“Okay, then all my thoughts about you are nice.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Hey, could you, uh…could you help me out of my dress?”

“You sure, Shy?” he asked, suddenly sobering up a little.

“I’m sure it’s uncomfortable, and I’m pretty sure I can’t reach the zipper as easily as you can.”

“Sure. How’d you get into it, anyway?”

“Single ladies have their ways, they’re just not very graceful so we’ve collectively sworn an oath of silence.”

He just smiled at her silliness, “You’re cute.”

“You’re drunk! Just help me with the zipper.”

“I am _not_ drunk! But I’m happy to be of service,” he stepped up behind her, and ran his hands along her shoulders. She hummed appreciatively at his touch, wanting to lean back into him but realizing that would make it difficult to unzip her, so ultimately counterproductive. But he let his hands take the long path to find her zipper, and by the time he did, she was covered in goosebumps. She was glad not to be in the heels anymore, or she might have fallen off of them. He unzipped her dress slowly, and then just stood there, waiting for her next move. She was frozen on the spot for a second, wanting him to just take her, make it easy for her. To not have to be the one with all the power, making all the choices. But he just watched her.

She turned toward him, and looked up into his eyes. She knew what she would see there, but it scared her, nonetheless. It was the same look he always gave her, that earnest, loving look. A look that said, “I will keep a respectful distance even if it kills me.” So she pulled him to her hard, kissing him, and focused instead on the feeling of his arms wrapping around her, hands fanning out on the bare skin under the open back of her dress. She pressed her body as tightly against his as physically possible, she was shaking a little. When he reached his hands down toward her ass, she was a little surprised, but she gasped in shock when his hands closed on her and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around him, and he carried her to the bed. He placed her down gently but then nearly ripped her dress off her, and then crushed her to the bed with his whole body.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, that even that basic action had too be forgotten in favor of focusing everything on their bodies. As if they separated for even a moment there would be some dire consequence, so all she could do was cling to him as tightly as possible. This wasn’t a few days’ worth of need building up, or even a few months’ worth, this felt like a lifetime had led up to this moment. She needed him inside her, needed him _now_. She was insensate with the force of it, she wanted to tell him, but when his mouth moved from hers, all she could do was whisper his name like a prayer over and over. She wanted to tear his clothes off, too, but she couldn’t bear the thought of their bodies being apart even for that, so she just clutched at him, held him tight. She felt him move a hand between them, expected to feel it in her panties. By the time she realized what he was doing, she only managed to get out “Chris, con…” before her world exploded as he entered her, and her voice was cut short by her own strangled cry.

Her body to a moment to accommodate him, but then they were moving together, in perfect sync. One of her hands moved down to grip at the sheets, but he caught it in his own, entwining their fingers and pressing her hand to the bed. She curled herself around him completely, burying her face in his neck, moaning his name, as they steadily built the rhythm together. Before long she fell apart, bucking under him before her hips stilled and her body stiffened around him in orgasm. He just pumped harder, and her orgasm turned into another, then another, then another, by the time he buried himself in her, stilling as he came, she was seeing little bursts of lights behind her eyelids.

She finally breathed again, and he collapsed onto her, murmuring her name. Suddenly he went rigid, “Oh, shit, Shy, I’m so sorry, we didn’t even talk about…I’m so sorry, I just…”

She shushed him and stroked his hair, “Hey, I wasn’t exactly stopping you. It was a little bit of a surprise, and next time we’re definitely using a condom, but I should have said something.”

He realized he was still inside her, so he rolled off and tucked himself back into his pants. “No, this is on me, I should have stopped. I just…no, there’s no excuse. But I’m all clear, here, let me show you my results…”

“I trust you, Chris. I’m all clear, and I’m on birth control. I just…better safe than sorry. I would feel a lot better if we used an extra layer of protection.”

“I completely understand. I’m still so sorry.”

She turned to him, and held his face, “Babe, it’s okay. Mistakes happen. We both got really caught up in the moment. I don’t regret anything. We’ll just…do better next time.”

He ran his hand over his face, sitting up, “I dunno, Shy. I should just go.”

She sat up and clung to his arm, “Chris, no. Let’s talk about this. What’s going on here?”

“I just…I’m trying to do right by you, Shy. I’m trying to be respectful. I’m trying to be the man you deserve. But I just…”

“Hey, hey now. You have been amazing. You have been so respectful. We just have hormones. I was there for what just happened. If I’d said ‘no’ and you kept going, or if I asked you to put on a condom and you didn’t, that would be one thing. But I wanted you, Chris. And, if you’ve been paying attention: I keep saying ‘next time’ because I want there to be a next time. Just…maybe one where we _both_ take it a little slower.”

“I’m just worried that I can’t control myself with you.”

“Chris, you’ve been nothing _but_ control! I don’t know how else to convince you! Please, just…”

“I get it, Shy. I just…I should go.”

She pleaded with him, “Stay. Please.” He stood up, taking a moment to straighten his clothes. She stood on the bed, and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning on his back. “I can go with you. But we’d probably make a scene if you carried me piggyback through the lobby in my underwear.”

She felt him huff out a chuckle, and he turned in her arms so they were face-to-face. “You’re crazy.”

“So are you. Let’s just calm ourselves down and put on a movie, okay?”

“I don’t have any sweats or anything to change into.”

“You also have a big wet spot on the front of your jeans. I can lend you a pair of shorts or something, they might be a little short on you, but your hips are smaller than mine.”

“You just want to see me in booty shorts.”

“One _hundred_ percent.”

“Are you sure, Shy?”

“I’m completely sure I want to see you in booty shorts, yes.”

“No, that I should stay?”

“Christopher Robert Evans: I am completely sure I want you to stay. Going to flagellate yourself over your sins will not change what happened tonight. I trust you. I’ve been tested since my last partner, I’m all clear, and I’m on the pill. Have you been tested since your last partner?”

“Yes. All clear.”

“Okay. Then I’ll make sure I’m extra super diligent about the pill for the next few days, and we will say a prayer to the gods of birth control that we aren’t falling into that .3%. Please stay. I won’t touch you below the belt, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Not really, but thanks for offering. Okay, you win, I’ll stay.” He took his jeans off, as the wet spot was pretty uncomfortable. She fell over on the bed laughing at the wet spot that was on his underwear, too. After rolling his eyes at her, he jumped into bed with her, and started tickling her until she begged him to stop.


	24. Hold On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy smut this time!

She woke up wrapped in his arms, and her heart soared. Those biceps were a better pillow than they had any right to be. And pressing her face into his chest, feeling engulfed by his steady heartbeat, feeling his breath ruffle her hair. What would it be like to start every day like this? She knew it wouldn’t really work out like that. They’d have a honeymoon phase, then they’d settle in and it would be a normal relationship. They’d have bad days. They’d get separated by work and other commitments. They’d fight. They’d have to figure out all the little differences that crop up, in scheduling, in where to live, how to do holidays, how to prioritize everything, even differences in communication and sex drives. All the regular grown-up, adult, relationship things. Could she do that with Chris?

It was easy to imagine the good stuff. Spending the weekend in each other’s arms was the easiest to picture, all the little things. And, of course, all the sex. But beyond that…she was even starting to imagine the big things. Going to events together. Meeting his family, and introducing him to hers. Moving in together. Her chest seized up a little trying to go beyond that. More than that…was too much to think about. Too overwhelming.

So she bit him. Not hard, she wasn’t trying to hurt him. And nothing particularly sexy. Her face was smooshed into his pecs, so she just opened up and chomped a little. She was looking up at him innocently when his eyes shot open. “Oh, hey, are you awake?”

He laughed, “I am now! What time is it?”

“I have no idea, I’m trapped. It’s light out, though.”

He craned his neck to look around her messy bun, “Looks like the alarm would be going off in about 4 minutes. Good timing, Shy.” He settled back down and held her tighter.

“Yay me!” she mumbled elatedly into his chest, squeezing him back. She lifted her face, so she could actually be understood, “So…you don’t have to go back to your room if you don’t want. You can shower here.”

“Oh really?”

“We could even conserve some water…if you want.”

“I don’t know, Shy…”

“Chriiiiis…” she whined back at him.

“I just…after last night, I don’t know if I can trust myself.”

“We just spent the whole night together in bed together. We’re going to need to be able to trust each other and ourselves.”

“You’re really not worried?”

“I’m really not. And shower sex always seems like a better idea than it is anyway, I’m too old for that shit.”

“You’re not too old, but you have a point. Okay.”

“Yesssss!” she pumped her fist in the air in celebration and hopped out of bed, stripping as she went to the bathroom to get the water started.

She was naked, and brushing her hair out when he came in, and stripped off his underwear. He tested the water, then stepped in. He heard a “Hey! Wait for me!” from the other side of the shower door, and she stepped in. “Alright: business time. Would you like me to wash your hair?”

“That seems safe enough. Sure you can reach?”

“Har har, funny man. I mean, if you want to kneel, I can think of other things for you to do.”

“That doesn’t sound business-like.”

“Sex work is business.”

“Shy…”

“I’m just teasing. Okay, stay standing, you giant hunk of man.”

She reached up and started working the shampoo in. He closed his eyes and seemed to be enjoying the feeling of her working her fingers through his hair, feeling her nails on his scalp. He pointed out, “I’m not really that tall, you know. I mean, Hemsworth…”

“Isn’t in this shower with me.”

“True.”

“Chris, I’m 5’3”. The difference between ‘quite tall’, ‘tall’, and ‘very tall’ are fine distinctions from this angle. Okay, you can rinse.” He obliged, dipping his head back under the water. “Do you use conditioner?”

“No? Should I?”

“I don’t know, your hair is just very soft, especially considering it’s dyed blonde, I figured I’d check. Okay, body wash time. You’re gonna smell like me, I hope the makeup gals don’t notice.”

“Huh, that’s a good point. Well, maybe they’ll just figure we’re using the stuff the hotel provides?”

“I like your optimism that they won’t gossip. I mean, you’re full of shit, but it’s sweet anyway. Turn around, let me get your back.” She got her scrubby out and enjoyed moving it over his back. Not that the front view wasn’t nice, but this…she just wanted to jump on him, like some kind of sexy piggyback ride. And, of course…

“Are you humming ‘American Woman’?” he asked with a laugh.

“I mean it was that or the Star-Spangled Banner, and I thought this was sexier,” she left the scrubby behind in favor of using her hands and took her time.

He turned to rinse his back off, and she washed his front. She was generous with the body wash, and lathered up his beautiful chest, arms, stomach. She locked eyes with him as she continued to his cock, making sure his equipment was thoroughly cleaned. Even when they first got in the shower, he was still battling a bit of morning wood, and having Shyla run her fingers through his hair and rub all over his body didn’t not help to calm the situation down. And now…

“Shy…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“You know we can’t…”

“Chris, just let me do this for you. It doesn’t have to be any more than this. I’ll ask again: do you want me to stop?”

“No, don’t stop, Shy…” he moaned.

She pumped his shaft slowly, watching his face. She rolled her hand over his head, smiling as he gripped her shoulders. She pulled his face to hers, and whispered “Do you like that, baby? What about if I…” that did the trick, he moved her shoulders and pressed her against the wall, kissing her. She tried to stroke him but his hips pinned her hand against her stomach as he kissed her. She groped blindly for the showerhead, and when she grabbed it she ran it over his chest, rinsing off the suds. When he made space for the stream, she took advantage and moved to her knees.

“Oh god, Shy…” he said before her lips even touched him. She teased him with her hand and the water for a bit as he watched her, fingers alighting on her hair.

She handed him the shower head, and after he’d put it back, when he turned around, she captured his cock between her breasts. “What do you want, Chris?” she asked, as he fought to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head so he could watch her. “Speechless? Okay, how about…where do you want to come? On my tits? Or in my mouth?” she gave him a little kiss right on the tip, and he just moaned in response. She took that as her answer and, sitting back on her heels, lowered her mouth to lick along the bottom of his shaft, then taking his head in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip before sinking down. He thumped his fist against the shower wall, to have something to do with his hands.

She had to admit: even his dick was beautiful. By dick standards, anyway. Giving head was not something that generally gave her joy, but she could suck his dick all day. Especially with the reaction she was getting. It wasn’t long after she invited his taint to the party that she heard “Shy, I’m gonna…” before he couldn’t speak anymore. She happily swallowed every drop.

He was leaning against the wall when she slid back up his body, with her grin she was clearly pleased with herself. He returned her smile and kissed her, wrapping her in his arms. “That was amazing,” he sighed, “Thank you.”

She shuffled him around her, “My pleasure. Now quit hogging the hot water. It’s my turn.”

When they got back to his hotel room after dinner, he plopped on the couch and she plopped on him, curling under his arm. He took her hand, and they talked. She told him about her travel plans, and the trials and tribulations trying to get everything sorted. He talked about what he was excited to do when he made it back to Boston. When she tried to do a Boston accent, he tickled her to defend the honor of his hometown. She pried his hands off her and held them over his head, and their bodies sang with the memory of that kiss for the cameras. She released his hands and held his face and couldn’t stop herself from smiling into the kiss. It was almost enough to laugh that this was where they were.

But she realized that, even though he seemed to be enjoying making out, his hands seemed glued to her waist. She broke the kiss to look at him, “Are…are you okay?”

“Definitely,” he tried to kiss her but she stopped him.

“Chris, why won’t you touch me?”

“What? I am touching you.”

“We’re not at a school dance.”

“I thought we were going to take it slow?”

“I just…I want you Chris. I want to share this with you. Tonight. Please.” She couldn’t bring herself to say that this might be their last night together. She needed to have a memory that both of them would treasure no matter what happened.

“Anything. Anything for you, Shy.” He looked like he was going to continue, but she cut him off with a kiss. Taking his hand, she lead him to the bed, making sure to get a condom out and ready on the nightstand. She started undressing him, kissing every inch of him her lips got access to. He pulled her dress over her head, took her hair down, and shortly he was laying her down on the bed so tenderly. He started to move down her body to return this morning’s favor, and she put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“No, babe. I just…I don’t want to lose this,” she said, and he knew what she meant. They hadn’t dropped eye contact, last night’s passion was replaced with an almost scorching intimacy. They both felt it, and neither wanted to risk losing it. He brought his face back up to level with hers, holding her cheek while he lowered his hand to her, exploring her wetness without losing a moment of the connection. They lay facing each other and she threw a leg over his hip, opening to him. When she came, she forced her eyes to stay open until she couldn’t, and pressed her forehead to his.

She slid the condom down him almost as soon as she was done, rolling him onto his back. He sat up as she straddled him, and wrapped his arms around her. All he wanted to do was hold her. This was where she belonged: in his arms. Nothing she could say or do would change that. When she slid onto him, he breathed “I love you, Shy.” She could only squeeze him tighter, and hope that would suffice.

They made it last. It wasn’t for lack of passion, or because they were tired, they just wanted to savor everything. Every touch, every sigh. It was almost like a dream space, the light of the world had narrowed down to their connection, and they couldn’t let that candle go out, they had to keep it alight with every loving caress. Finally, he couldn’t resist the demands of his body anymore. She was on the bed under him, and he picked up the pace. They were wrapped so tightly in each other’s arms, when they came together she felt like they would fuse. They were locked together, and even as their bodies relaxed and softened, she felt like they’d need the jaws of life to pry her off him.


	25. Having Your Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much smut!

But when she woke up, he was gone. He’d left a note that he had gone to the gym. Since he wasn’t available to shower with, she just went back to her room and got ready there. She sent him a text, she saw it marked as “Read” almost instantly, but no reply. She tried not to be hurt, but…last night they didn’t just have sex. Much though she generally found the term nauseating, they made _love_. And Chris was…well, he was an emotional person. She couldn’t imagine he hadn’t noticed. And he must want to talk about it. Why was he avoiding her? It felt like the physical equivalent of pouring your soul out to someone and just getting a blank stare in return. But even with all this broiling inside her: it was Seb’s birthday, and when she thought about it, her heart fluttered. She had planned out his birthday surprise in a bit of a rush, but she was pleased with what she’d managed to pull off already.

When she first saw Seb in the lobby that morning, she had hugged him and loudly wished him a happy birthday, duly embarrassing him, and she continued it through the day. Any time other people were around, she made sure they knew it was his birthday, so everyone on-set knew before too long. Of course, any time there wasn’t anyone else around, he was trying to sneak in some kisses, or at least hold her hand. She didn’t fight it, though. It was his birthday, after all.

And Chris…barely acknowledged her. During breaks in the action, he spent it on his phone, or went to his trailer. She desperately wanted to hunt him down and talk to him, figure out what the hell was going through his head. But then the director would need her, or Seb would smile at her…

Back at the hotel, she told Seb she’d meet him at his room at 6, and to be ready for dinner. She rushed back to her room, putting the finishing touches on her plans and getting herself ready. There was a knock at her door promptly at 5:50, and the final preparations had fallen into place.

Right on time, she showed up at Seb’s door. He flung it open, and was confused to see her behind a room service cart. He laughed, “What’s this?”

“It’s getting cold is what it is. You gonna let me in?” she asked, and he stepped aside. She’d told him it would be a nice dinner, so he was in a button-up and slacks, she could see the suit jacket waiting on a nearby chair. She was in a sexy black dress, low-cut front and back, and heels, and had made an attempt to do up her hair. He was eyeing her as she brushed past him, so she said “See, I promised you’d get something nice for your birthday.”

“You certainly delivered. What’s in the cart?”

“Have a seat, and you’ll find out,” she insisted. He did as instructed, and on the coffee table in front of him, she put a tray, and, with a flourish, removed the cover.

“Pizza?!” he laughed.

“Your favorite!”

“What about all your ‘I’m in a beautiful French village, I’m not eating room service’ shit?”

“Well it’s not _my_ birthday, is it? Do you like it?”

“I love it, thank you so much, Shyla!” he pulled her in for a kiss, to show his appreciation.

“Happy birthday, Seb!” she smiled at him when their lips parted. “Let’s dig in!” she popped up to grab her own pizza, as well as the beers.

“So…why did I have to get dressed up for room service?” he asked.

“You didn’t. You can change whenever you want. Technically, I didn’t say you had to dress up, I just said dinner would be nice and I was going to dress up.”

“You’re sneaky, you know that, Riddle?”

“Well, I couldn’t very well tell you we were just going to get room service! That wouldn’t have been a very cute surprise! Also, it was a lot of effort to convince the kitchen to make two pizzas, these aren’t usually on the room service menu. The ask offended the chef greatly.”

“I wondered, I didn’t remember seeing them there.” He took a bite, and audibly moaned, “Oh, Shyla, this is heaven!”

They ate and talked and flirted and enjoyed each other’s company. When they’d finished off the pizzas, she pulled out the cake. “Do you know how hard it was to convince a French patisserie to bake a chocolate cake with peanut butter? They don’t really do peanut butter here, certainly not this combination. I thought I was going to get hauled off to jail for even suggesting it.”

“This is amazing,” he couldn’t stop smiling at her.

“Okay, well, here’s the candle,” she said, lighting it, “now make a wish!” He blew it straight out, not a moment’s hesitation. “What did you wish for?” she asked.

“Well, if I tell you, it won’t come true,” he said in a somewhat suggestive voice. “But I think you can guess.” He pulled her in for a kiss, moving his hands to her, cupping her cheek and her hip with equal insistency. She slid towards him, deepening the kiss, pressing herself to him. The cake could wait.

She slid the coffee table a little further from the couch, then moved to his lap, straddling him. She sat above him for a second, pulling the pins out of her hair to let it tumble over her shoulders. He always seemed to enjoy playing with her hair, even when they were just friends, and tonight was for him. He ran his fingers along her jawline, then back to plunge into her hair, and she reflexively leaned into his hand. Well, tonight might be for him, but she enjoyed having her hair played with, too.

He brought her to him, and she kissed him in earnest, the playfulness turning into heat. He was trying to rein himself in and touch her gently, but failing. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her thighs, reveling in feeling her gasp, wanting to hear his name on her lips. He ran his hands up her thighs, grabbing and kneading at her in a way that spread her making her gasp, and he got what he wanted.

“Oh _fuck_ , Sebastian,” she breathed against his lips. Her fingers flexed into the back of his neck and his shirt, before she moved her hands to her back, searching for the zipper of her dress. He was happy to assist, moving his hands up her back and deftly unzipping it. She reared up and pulled it off, and then got to work on his buttons.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he sighed, sitting up to bury his face in her breasts, kissing and kneading them. He slipped a hand down the front of her panties, and her already-fumbling hands balled into fists in his shirt as she sucked in a ragged breath.

“Oh god, Sebastian…fuck me,” she whimpered.

He wrapped his free hand around the back of her neck, looking up at her. He continued working his fingers inside her, “Are you sure?”

But she reached down and grabbed him through his slacks, and that settled it: he needed her right now. He fished a condom out of his pocket and tore it open while she undid his fly, and in the space of a couple breaths she had him in hand, pushing her panties aside and positioning him at her entrance. He held her face to watch her as she lowered herself onto him, throwing her head back. Seeing her like that was almost enough to make him come by itself, much less feeling himself bottom out in her. He ran his hand down her throat, down her chest as she started to slowly grind on him. She clutched his hands to her breasts in encouragement, and he started rolling her nipples between his fingers. He took one into his mouth, and she cried out and shuddered as his teeth closed on her, flicking his tongue across the tender bud as her grinding picked up the pace.

When the shudders from the first of what he intended to be many orgasms for her had subsided, he wrapped his arms around her and lowered her to the couch. They locked eyes as he slowly thrust into her, and pulled back out. From the look in her eyes, he had her completely helpless, she was lost in her lust. “Seb, Seb…” she breathed, and he moved his hand down her side until he was gripping her hip again. He moved it until his thumb hit her clit, and picked up the place as she squirmed beneath him. Every time their hips met, his thumb sent an extra jolt of electricity through her. He reared back to watch as she fell apart, and as he pounded into her to keep the waves of her orgasm rolling, he joined her, and they tumbled over the edge together.

He collapsed, trying not to crush her, moving his hand to her hair and pressing little kisses into her neck. “ _Draga mea_ ,” he breathed, “you’re incredible.”

“And we’ve made quite a mess of ourselves, Mr Stan!”

“I can’t move, you’ve paralyzed me.”

“I think if anyone was broken, it was me. Thank you, Seb, that was amazing,” she sighed and kissed his ear, curling her arms around him and holding him to her, stroking his hair. An appreciative noise of agreement thrummed in his chest, and she noticed his lips had stilled. She poked him a little, “Seb, don’t you dare fall asleep on me!”

“Mmm…but I already told you, I’m paralyzed, I can’t go anywhere,” he argued, nuzzling her neck.

“You’re still _inside_ me! Get off!” she laughed.

“I already got off!” he reminded her, and she tried to playfully shove him. He tickled her in return, but her ticklish, traitorous body seized up under him. His hands gave up tickling in favor of gripping her, as her walls clamped down on him, eliciting a grunt. Softening though he was, it was an impressive effect. “Holy _shit_ , Shyla!”

“Watch out, next she’ll bite you,” she threatened, nipping his ear.

“Alright,” he conceded, “You win.” He pushed himself off her, “We really did make a mess,” he agreed with a laugh.

“Well, there’s a solution to that…” she sat up and knelt next to him, kissing his cheek and sliding a hand down his front, undoing the last buttons of his shirt. “Get naked.”

He turned to kiss her, and dipped her across his lap. “So soon? _Draga mea_ , you are _insatiable_!”

She laughed, and with her eyes sparkling up at him, he couldn’t help but kiss her. She was…amazing. Every time she smiled at him, it was like someone had put a hook through his guts that yanked him to her. Touching anything but her felt like a waste, when he could be running his fingers through her soft hair. Fuck, even food tasted better when she was around.

She slid out of his lap, and batted his hands away without even looking when he reached for her. She shimmied out of her panties and tossed them at him. He sat back, grinning, watching the sway of her hips as she went to the bathroom. He shook his head before he pulled himself, stripping down to join her.

She was leaning on the bathroom counter, checking her makeup, when he came in behind her, hands immediately on her hips, lips at her shoulder. She pressed back into him, and he gripped her tighter. “Hey now,” he warned, “you’re going to stir up trouble with that.”

“I think I’ve still got a few minutes before I’m at risk of trouble again.” She turned in his arms, but held him back with a hand at his stomach, “I want to look at you.”

He smiled and bit his lip, “You’ve seen me before.”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we kind of skipped the ‘getting naked’ part earlier. I’ve seen you shirtless, but…not all of you.”

“I’m not really at my full glory at the moment…”

“I think I’ve got a good idea of the full glory,” she hopped up to sit on the counter. “Give us a twirl!”

He backed up, giving her what she’d come to think of as [The Look](https://sincerelysaraahh.tumblr.com/post/174011750271/imagine-sebastian-looking-at-you-like-this-when), and spread his arms, giving her a slow spin. It was her turn to bite her lip as she smiled, looking him over. God, he was spectacular. She had seen his top half plenty of times and, tasty though it was, there was no surprise there. But…wow. His thighs, his ass…ooh.

She didn’t hide her expression from him. When he’d completed his circle, he planned to strike a pose, make a quip. But when he saw the look she was giving him, he went to her, grabbing her legs and wrapping them around him. He grabbed her ass and lifted her, squealing, carrying her to the bed and tossing her on. “Now I get _my_ look,” he growled. She propped herself up on her elbows, bringing her legs together, but he put his hands on her knees, prying them apart, spreading her, smoothing his hands over her bare skin. “No, _draga mea_ , I want to see all of you.”

She let her knees drop. It wasn’t as if no man had ever witnessed her like this. She was just fairly certain no one had ever really _seen_ her like this. The way his eyes moved over her, she knew what a bunny must feel like when it caught the attention of a wolf. He ran his hands up the insides of her thighs, stopping just short of her pussy. She could feel it throbbing for him, like it was calling out for his touch, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction

“Turn over,” he encouraged, voice getting a little rough. She complied. He ran his hands over the backs of her thighs, up her hips. He moved onto the bed, kneeling between her legs. She folded her arms under her head, pillowing her cheek on them, anticipating his hands to massage her ass. But she felt him move them past her ass, massaging her lower back. It wasn’t really where she wanted them to do their work, but his hands were magic even where they were. Strong, skillful, unhesitating. She started to squirm under his ministrations, lifting her ass towards him. He took the hint, rubbing his way further down, slowly, until his thumbs found the cleft where cheek met thigh. His thumbs traced a path along the line, down between her thighs, spreading her wide open, but not actually entering her. The heat was pouring off her, and he was already hard again seeing how wet she was. He gave himself a couple of strokes as he watched her glisten.

“Condom, Seb,” she moaned, tilting her hips up in invitation. “Please…”

“So polite!” He gave her a little slap on the ass, “I’ll meet you at the headboard.”

She enthusiastically scrambled into position, moving pillows out of the way, bracing herself against the headboard, and planting her knees wide, ready for him to enter her. She was shaking her hair out over her shoulders when she felt the weight of him land on the bed, but she didn’t feel him move behind her. Instead, she felt his hands curl around the fronts of her thighs, and his head appeared below her. He pulled her hips down and she yelped his name, surprised. She’d been eaten out before, but never just sat on a guy’s face, not like this. But this…her fingers plunged into his hair as his tongue did its work. He tried to tease her, go slow, and she found it very frustrating. She felt vulnerable, insecure. But then something clicked into place: she was in charge here. She redirected him exactly where she wanted him to be, moved her body the way she needed it to be, pulled his hair until he gave her what she wanted. She was a little worried she’d drown him, she had started so wet already, she was a fountain now. But she had a hard time caring: she could only stop herself if he tapped out or she finished. She was fucking his face, grinding into his chin and mouth, until he hit just so…she stilled, unable to breathe, as he brought her over the edge.

She lifted her arms up in time to keep her from face-planting into the headboard, but only just. She was shaky from the power of that orgasm, she wanted to lay down but she didn’t think she could get the lower half of her body to agree to move anywhere. Seb freed himself from the clutches of her thighs, and disappeared for a moment, she wouldn’t have even noticed except for the fact that it invited a cool breeze onto her soaked skin.

But he was behind her again. She was about to protest, she needed a moment more to catch her breath, but he was inside her, and the world fell away again. Her back bent into a U-shape, shoving her ass toward him and lifting her face to the sky. He’d slowly buried himself to the hilt, and was just as slowly withdrawing. All she could do was hold on for dear life. She felt his hands on her back again, then one moved up to her hair, making a fist at her scalp, the other moving to her front to cup her breast. She cried out as he drove into her, managing to beg him “Harder…harder,” and when he gave her what she needed, she felt a scream die in her throat as she was wracked with wave after wave of orgasm. She heard his final groans right as she felt like she was going to pass out.

She was trembling a little, every muscle of her body too exhausted to move. She felt him kiss her shoulder, and when he noticed her shaking, he helped her remove herself from the headboard and ease down into the bed. He left for a moment, she distantly registered his absence and the sounds of him bustling about. He returned, a little cleaned up, and with a washcloth and a bottle of water.

“Here, take this. You okay?”

“Holy shit, Seb,” she managed, “I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard.”

He gave a short bark of laughter, “Thank God, I thought I’d hurt you or something!”

“I might not be able to walk tomorrow. Or…ever.”

“Well, drink some water. I imagine you’re quite dehydrated right now.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, I probably should’ve warned you…”

He just looked at her incredulously, “Are you kidding? That was…there are no words. You were magnificent. I’m addicted.”

“Well, I hope it wasn’t so addictive you’d want another round tonight, because that would definitely kill me.”

“I would write an amazing eulogy.”

“Oh god, I can’t even imagine!”

“Shyla died as she lived: coming all over my face.”

“Jesus, Seb,” she tried to punch his arm, but she was weak as a kitten.

“Okay, I think you need more than water. Hold up,” he bounced off the bed, and there was more shuffling about. She cleaned herself up a bit, then closed her eyes, trying to just make herself drink more water. When he came back, it was with a big serving of cake and two forks. “Can you sit up?”

“For cake? Yeah, I can manage,” she hoisted herself to a sitting position.

He fed her cake, and took a few bites himself, before he trusted her with a fork of her own. They just sat, laughing and eating cake in bed, until she leaned back against the headboard. “Babe, I think I’m going to pass out for real this time.”

He put the plate on the nightstand, “Go to sleep, _draga mea_. I’ll clean up here.”

She was out before her head even hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The week is just about over for our trio...so things are about to get tough. This is ultimately going to be a choose your own adventure, I have about a half dozen different endings/new stories to choose from. But I'm not entirely sure how to go about posting them. So...if you have any suggestions or know any stories here that do choose-your-own-endings well, please let me know!


	26. The Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the end note afterwards and help me figure some stuff out!

Shyla woke up before Seb and gathered her things in the dark. She felt bad pulling a disappearing act. But it was Friday. Their last day of filming. She didn’t leave until Sunday, but even though no one had said it, there was a clear expectation that tonight would be The Big Decision.

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. This was bad. What had she done? What was she going to do?

She took the birthday present she’d bought Seb out and put it in an obvious place on the coffee table, before quietly letting herself out of the room, and slinking back to hers.

She did her best to keep to herself during the day. She told both of them she had a headache, which wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the whole reason. It broke her heart to do it. She couldn’t easily explain to Seb why she snuck off without a word that morning. And Chris must think it was just a validation of his fears, that she had been hurt by him, and was holding it against him. She had to figure out what to say to either of them, much less both of them, before she could spend any time with them.

Sebastian…oh, Seb. That had been the most incredible sex, he wasn’t the only one addicted. And it wasn’t just sex, either. He excited her, to her core. The way he looked at her, the way they made fun of each other. But there was this…anger in him. She didn’t see it much, but he could get so jealous. She wanted to believe that was just because of the insane nature of the situation they were in, but what if it wasn’t? What if it got worse when they were together? But most of the time, he was so _sweet_. The way he’d been there for her on the anniversary of her husband’s death…even if it ended up being a mess, she would never forget how willing he was to just drop everything when he saw how sad she was. She loved him. And after sex like that, she didn’t think it would be possible to go back to being friends.

And Chris. How could she not love Chris? He was her best friend. Even though they’d spent the better part of a year on opposite sides of the country, even when he was busy and stressed and full of anxiety, he’d been there for her. He was so supportive, they’d hardly gone a day without at least a quick text, and that was before he’d confessed his feelings for her. She never felt safer than when he held her. And even if the sex they’d had hadn’t been quite the same as with Seb, it was still out of this world. It was just more tender. His feelings were just so intense, it scared her. He deserved someone who would be just as supportive and loving as he was, someone who could help him get through the darker days. Could she be that person? Could she really live up to that standard? He’d told her about his exes, what had gone wrong, how he blamed himself for it even when it was clearly not his fault, how could she sit back and watch as _she_ hurt him? She was damaged, and she knew it. Was she even going into this for the right reasons? She wanted Chris, and the sex was good, but maybe she just wanted the relationship more. Maybe it was too hard being single, and Chris was means to an end. She didn’t feel like she deserved him.

She had love with both of them. It was different, but they were different men, and they brought different feelings out of her. With Seb she had unprecedented passion and excitement, and just fun. With Chris, it was all tenderness, safety, sweetness. And when she was alone with each of them, it was the only thing she wanted in the whole world. How could she choose one over the other?

After they’d wrapped and made it back to the hotel, she had about a half an hour to herself before she heard a knock on her door. Chris and Seb stood there, looking apprehensive. She let them in without a word. She’d obviously been crying, even without the choice ahead of her, wrapping made for an emotionally exhausting day. Chris wrapped his arms around her, cradling her like if he just put a little more love in, he could make it go away. When he released her, Seb stepped in and squeezed her, hoping to put a smile on her face. Of course, this encapsulation of the dilemma was exactly the problem, so it didn’t work for either of them.

They stood in the middle of her suite, not really sure what to do with themselves. Should they sit? Was that presumptuous? Who was she going to send packing?

“You don’t have to sit down, but this feels very much like you’re looming over me,” she observed, with her uncanny way of knowing what they were thinking about. So they both took seats on opposite sides of the couch. “Do either of you want anything from the mini bar?” They shook their heads, but she got three tiny liquors out, putting one down in front of each of them, and opening and finishing off the third. She stood in silence for a moment, leaning against a wall, gathering herself.

“Shy, you know you don’t have to do this,” Chris offered.

“Do you need more time?” Seb asked.

God, they were both so sweet. “No, I’ve got to do this. I can’t…it’s not fair. To any of us. I just…I want to thank you first. Both of you have been so, _so_ wonderful to me. Even when I didn’t deserve it. Hell, _especially_ when I didn’t deserve it. I hope both of you know how special you are to me.” Both of them gave her almost identical sad smiles, and she felt her heart break for the millionth time. “I was so scared about basically everything with this film. That I would be terrible at the acting, the fighting, all the working out. And, just…socially. I was worried it would just be a long, lonely slog. And thank you for being my friends despite…everything. I also wanted to apologize. This whole situation is my fault.” They both started to argue, and she cut them off, “No, just…let me say my piece, you can argue later. I just…I’m damaged. And not just because my husband died. The part nobody tells you about being a widow is that it puts you in this impossible position: you’re both too jaded and too naïve. I feel like I know too much about what relationships can be and nothing about dating and starting a relationship. And I thought I was ready to try to figure it all out, start again. And I was. But…this threw me into the deep end. I truly never intended to hurt either of you. And now we’re at the point of no return. I don’t think there’s a way out without hurting all of us.” There was a long silence while she just tried to breathe, tried not to cry. “I need both of you to move on. I…can’t choose between you. I am so happy with each of you, and the thought of hurting either of you breaks my heart. When you started your ridiculous competition, I was pissed, but I was also _relieved_. That maybe it would make things easier, that trying to switch to romance would be harder with one of you, I’d figure out that we were better off as friends, and it would be obvious all around. But that’s not what happened. At _all_. And now, we’ve wrapped, I don’t have to worry about what drama dating could create, and I just…can’t choose. I want to love you both, and I don’t want to hurt either of you. I think it’s better for everyone if you both just…let me go. Move on. Go and date other women. Fall in love. Forget about me.”

She tried to look at them. She really did. She could already see the tears on Chris’ cheeks, and the color rising in Seb’s. After a moment, there was a small explosion of noise, both of them trying to talk, standing to go to her. “No,” she held her hands up, trying to physically distance them, stepping backwards. “I _can’t_.”

Chris got to her first. “Shy, come on…don’t beat yourself up like this. If you just didn’t love me, that would be one thing, but…”

Seb shortly followed, “You just need more time. After you’ve traveled, had some space, then it’ll be easier…”

“You don’t get it! Neither of you do! I love you both. I can’t _do_ that to you. I can’t choose, and I can’t put off choosing any longer. Should I just keep carrying on with both of you, waiting for someone to screw up? Dumping the first one who makes a mistake? Are you just going to share me forever?” she could see the sad crinkling of Chris’ eyes and the angry fire in Seb’s. “I didn’t think so. What could waiting achieve? I go around the world while you twiddle your thumbs? Are you hoping I’ll just get some sort of divine knowledge from a mountaintop? It won’t work like that, and I can’t do that to you. I’ve already wasted so much of your time! If I’d just said no…”

“Then I’d still be in love with you,” Chris insisted.

“So would I,” Chris agreed.

“No, you wouldn’t! Maybe we wouldn’t even still be friends! You’d be dating a hot stunt woman or getting some local ass at a bar or have fallen in love with an extra. You would have made your shot with me, and you would have moved on. Tonight we’d be sharing a drink or two, then we’d be on our separate ways.”

“That’s _bullshit_ , Shyla!” Seb snapped, “You don’t know that, that’s just what you want to be true! What you want to tell yourself to make it okay!”

“You think I tell myself that to make it okay? Why the _hell_ would that make it better for me? You’d be happier if you never met me!”

“No, Shy, no…don’t say that,” Chris pleaded.

“It’s true! Chris…none of this makes me happy. But at least if I do this now, if I stop putting it off, if I stop being selfish…I know I can never give you back that time you wasted, but I can stop myself from taking any more.”

“ _Stop it_ ,” Chris roared. Her eyes widened in shock, she’d never heard him raise his voice like this before. He quieted, “Just…stop. It wasn’t a waste. Loving you wasn’t a waste.”

“Chris, that’s not what I…I just mean I wish you’d found happiness in some other way. I can’t be that for you. For either of you.”

“You just won’t let yourself,” Seb insisted. “Why can’t you _let_ yourself be happy?”

A fresh sob ripped from her chest. They both instinctually reached for her, pulled to comfort the woman they loved. But she tore herself away from them and ran. It was so cowardly, and she would hate herself for it, but in that moment it was all she could think to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELP! So...it doesn't end here by any means. Shyla needs some distance from the situation. 
> 
> BUT...I have written literally a half-dozen endings and stories with future potential. All of them have a good start and some smut, but I might choose to expand them into full stories in their own right. I don't know how I should share them with y'all, and I don't know the finer details of this platform so UGH. So in the comments, please let me know which is best:
> 
> A. Write them as they come to me, so it would be, hypothetically, 27: Chris 1, 28: Seb 1, 29: Chris 2, 30: Chris 3, 31: Henry's Back, etc, and if you're going chapter-by-chapter, it will be jumping back and forth between stories.  
> B. Keep them grouped by ending arc, and any additions get added in the middle. So it would be like 27: Chris 1, 28: Chris 2, 29: Chris 3, 30: Seb 1, 31: Henry, etc. And then if I added another Seb chapter, that would be 31 and Henry would get bumped to 32.  
> C. Keep them each as a new work entirely, each part of a series. I can make the last page here as a page of links to each of the possible endings. 
> 
> I kind of like C the best, it seems more straightforward for me...but I'm also not the reader here, you are. So help me out! What would be best for you?


	27. Appendix: Civil War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just for funsies, this is how I imagined Shyla's character fitting into the plot of Civil War.

Shyla plays Wren Gold, “The Songbird”. Her powers include singing having certain effects on people, essentially being able to drive them mad, and some low-level mind control she can exert with her voice, plus some muay thai/MMA fighting background. Cap had recruited her sometime after what went down in Sokovia (Age of Ultron). She was living and training at the Avengers compound.

In the opening scenes, we hear her voice over the headsets in Lagos, but don’t see her until back at the compound. She goes to comfort Wanda, then gets in a fight with Cap, saying she should have been there, him saying she wasn’t ready for it. She offers to prove herself, he says she can’t use her powers. It’s not fair, but she knows he’s waiting for her to complain, so she agrees and storms off to the gym. The fight scene is intense, he’s a super soldier so she has to rely on a lot of defensive techniques and somewhat dirty fighting because she’s neither faster nor stronger than him, but she can use his size against him, and her knowledge of how he fights. She winds up pinning him briefly, and rears up to gloat, when he flips her onto the mat and pins her with his whole body. There’s a shot of them breathing hard, dripping sweat, faces an inch from each other. She says “What are you protecting me from?” and after a beat, he kisses her hard on the mouth. He pins her arms over her head on the mat and just as the kissing starts to get intense, we hear Vision over a speaker saying that Tony has arrived with the Secretary of State.

Wren sides with Steve, she has been kind of a renegade until being recruited by the Avengers, she wasn’t about to sign her life over in a contract. She goes to Europe with Steve and Sam. She helps Steve defend Bucky, Steve warns Bucky to plug his ears and she sings into the stairwell to temporarily stun the soldiers coming to get them. She helps delay Black Panther on the rooftop, then she manages to catch up on a motorcycle with everyone else, but is arrested along with them. When being escorted into their cell, she makes eye contact with Bucky: he’s strapped down in a containment unit, and she has something that looks like a muzzle on her. They exchange pained looks over their mutual containment before being carted off separately.

After Bucky gets re-programmed, she tries to help Steve contain him, but their fight ends when Bucky chokes her to stop her from singing, and tosses her across the room. She manages to make it to the roof in time to see Bucky punch through the helicopter to grab Steve. Just before it goes down, they make eye contact, she screams “ _You’re Bucky_!” and we can see a momentary flash in his eyes as the mind control brings him back to himself just before the helicopter goes over the edge.

When he comes to in the warehouse, she’s waiting, and he immediately starts asking about how she did that. She gets Sam and Steve come in to interrogate him, figure out if he’s really Bucky again. They ask all their questions, and Shyla leaves to get a car. Bucky asks about her, and reveals that she was the first thing to truly snap him out of the programming. Previously he could remember bits & pieces, but when she told him he was Bucky, he finally believed it, and it was like a mental dam burst. He knew he could be triggered again, though, and that meant he would never be truly safe.

In the car, Wren is crammed in the back seat with Bucky. When Sharon kisses Steve, Sam and Bucky give him proud looks, but Wren just says “Well, I guess that settles that.” Bucky looks at her, confused, but then Cap is back in the car and they’re off.

Before the big airport fight scene, Cap tries to talk to her before they suit up, but she shuts it down, saying they have to be ready to fight. She gets paired up with Scott to fight, and throughout the fighting they can’t stop making sarcastic remarks about the other (these turn out to be mostly improvised lines between Shyla & Paul that the Russos kept in). Ultimately, she tells Cap to go with Bucky, that they need to go together. After the rest of team Cap agrees to hold them off as long as possible, she fights with Peter Parker, she manages to take him down mentally by singing at him to cross his arms and not move until she tells him to, but then she gets knocked out.

When Steve & Bucky get off the plane in Russia, Bucky asks if he had something going with Wren. Steve says it’s tricky with female soldiers, but he can’t be with a subordinate. But that Wren was an impressive woman, and that Bucky would get along well with her. The next time we see Wren, she’s in the prison, wearing another muzzle, eyes nearly sparking with rage. When Tony makes a comment passing her cell, she flips him off.

After Steve releases them, she’s in the lab scene with Bucky post-credits:

Steve: Are you sure about this?

Bucky, looking at Steve and tilting his head toward Wren: Can we have a second?

Steve walks off to talk to talk to T’Challa, Wren goes to Bucky's side, puts a comforting hand on his.

Wren: James, you don’t have to do this.

Bucky: I’ve told you, call me Bucky. And there’s only two ways forward for me. The safest way is if they put me under until the scientists here can figure out how to fix me.

Wren, looking at him with confusion: What’s the other way?

Bucky: You. You deprogrammed me once, Wren. You can do it again. But I don’t know how long it will stick. And I don’t know how to keep you safe from me.

Wren: You paternalistic World War II soldier types! I can keep myself safe, I always have.

Bucky, taking her hand: But…you don’t need to do it alone.

See him looking earnest and sad, and her looking startled and torn, before cutting to Steve and T’Challa, leaving it unclear if she’s staying with him or if she’s going with Cap and he’s getting frozen.


	28. Alternate Wren Adventures!

Since I dreamed up Wren for Shyla to play, she's been in my head a lot! I've started a new work about Wren, but I'm not going to include it as part of this series. It's a little more divorced from the plot specifics of the Avengers MCU franchise, but if you were missing the angst and smut with the faces involved, it's more slow burning love triangle action! But instead of Chris/Shyla/Seb, it's Steve/Wren/Bucky (and maybe a little Loki, we'll see)!

If this sounds good to you, check out [Little Bird](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137593), and thanks in advance for any subscribes/bookmarks/comments/kudos, they mean the world!


	29. Choose Your Ending!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No fic here, just an explanation of what's going on!

Now here comes the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure part! I've written a whole bunch of endings for this story, because, much like Shyla, I just can't choose! I wrote one ending, then I'd miss one of the guys and another would appear, or I'd have a sexy dream about a totally different celebrity, or I'd miss Shy, and here we are! Some of them are short, one-off chapters, some of them might become lengthy epics in their own right. They're all at least a little smutty!

To make it easier to read, I've made this into a series called The Songbird. You can subscribe to the series [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699837), but I'll also try to update this page with links when a new story starts. 

[Worth It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23615860): The Chris ending! It's very sweet, just like our Chris.

[Getting there](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23646259/chapters/56754718): The Seb ending! This one's a slow burn, but the smut and fluff will come.

[Surprise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23726383): Henry gets another chance!

[Pleasure to Meet You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777314): Tom Hiddleston joins the scene! This is the first of a number of options where Shyla sticks to her guns and doesn't go back to Seb or Chris, she starts fresh with someone new. 

[Neighborly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872111/): Sam Heughan (Scot-hottie from Outlander) meets Shyla and they hit it off...until they don't. A bit of enemies-to-lovers-style hotness!


End file.
